


Wherever You Are

by SelenaTerna



Series: Prompt Fics [19]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Medical, Medical Emergency, Post-Episode: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Sickfic, Telepathy, Trigger warning for non-specific portrayal of domestic violence, UA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaTerna/pseuds/SelenaTerna
Summary: A post-GITF sick-fic UA. What if Rose had come away with more than nightmares after her run-in with the clockwork droids? What if her trust in the Doctor had been so fractured that she'd been afraid to tell him? And what if that broken trust might just lead to a dangerous situation for Rose? Will the Doctor be able fix it in time?
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Prompt Fics [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/722679
Comments: 640
Kudos: 346





	1. Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovely people! So this is chapter 1 of my submission for the Doctor x Rose Classic Tropes event. It's a bit darker than anything I've written in a while, and it deals with the effect of broken trust and abandonment after that confounded episode (SCREW YOU MOFFAT, AND HUZZAH FOR THE HORSE THAT REFUSED TO LET YOU RIDE IT). Trigger warning for non-explicit DV, self-loathing, PTSD, medical emergency (which will come later).  
> This is a sick-fic, with lots of hurt-comfort, a surprise guest or two, loads of telepathy and some seriously difficult introspection. I am an unabashed Doctor x Rose shipper, I love Ten X Rose, but the Doctor we got in this stupid episode was a complete jerk and if we want the babies to be ok, they need to deal with the train-wreck that Moffat wrote. The Doctor needs to do some serious thinking and repair Rose's trust in him because in this ep, he sucked. This is my attempt to do that in a rather dramatic and different way.  
> Many, many thanks to Rose_Nebula for the multiple read-throughs, wonderful beta and talking me off the ledge and/or setting this whole fic on fire. You're the best! <3

_“Right, you two, that's enough lying about. Time we got the rest of the ship turned off.”_

Rose stared in shock and confusion as the restraints were removed, the disabled droids frozen above her, blades out. Heart still pounding in terror, she bit back her disbelieving questions and demands for an explanation and forced herself to shift slowly off the table, gently working her burning muscles. 

Mickey wasn’t anywhere near as subtle, groaning and grumbling as he worked out the aches and pains. The Doctor didn’t seem to notice, though, dashing around and chattering about _thick_ _robots_ and _milometers_ and _thirty-seven years._ And _her-_ Madame de Pompadour.

She inhaled quietly, trying to keep a firm hand on her roiling emotions.

So far, the Doctor didn’t seem at all bothered to find them strapped to a table with killer robots intent on hacking them to pieces. When he’d first arrived, seemingly drunk and uncaring, she’d thought that his indifference was a ruse, that he was trying to catch the robots off-guard before destroying them with the anti-oil. Only, now that it was over, he hadn’t even bothered to check them over. He hadn’t even asked if they were alright, if they’d been hurt, or _anything_. He _always_ asked, he always cared. Or at least he _had_ , and now he was acting as if they’d just had tea in the TARDIS and there was nothing to bother about at all.

He hadn’t even looked her in the eye. 

When she thought of how different it had been before he’d changed, her throat closed with pain and looming dread. Before, he’d been frantic after every close call and determined to ensure she hadn’t come to any harm, blaming himself if she got so much as a scratch (and disguising it in a lengthy lecture on the evils of fragile humans wandering off).

And now...

She exhaled, forcibly pushing the thoughts away. So he didn’t have time to bother about her just now- they were in a bit of a tight spot, she told herself. There wasn’t time. That was all.

She swallowed.

Trouble was, that was hard to believe when he’d still found time to insult her for being angry about being strapped to a table while he’d been off partying with the king’s bit on the side. He’d had time to insult the robots and swish about being smug. He’d had time to make snarky comments about lazing about. He’d had time to rush about being pleased with his own cleverness and ignoring her as best he could. 

He just hadn’t had any time to bother about her. 

She pushed back the thought that Mickey might have been right with his earlier jabs about Sarah-Jane and Reinette and Cleopatra. She’d snapped right back, refusing to let on that she was worried in the face of his smug self-satisfaction but now, faced with the Doctor’s determined distance, his chatter a low buzzing in her ears, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Inhaling, she forced her thoughts back to their situation. They weren’t out of this yet, not by a longshot and she needed to stop dwelling on feelings and lifespans and _the most accomplished woman in history_ and focus on what needed to be done. There was plenty of time to worry about things later. 

And anyway, she told herself firmly, they’d be alright. They were the Doctor and Rose. They were always alright.

Weren’t they?

Determinedly, she pushed the painful rejection and confusion firmly to the back of her mind and tried to act as normally as possible, to play her part. She parried the Doctor’s comments, pretending that this was just another adventure and she was just fine and _they_ were fine and everything was _fine_. 

She swallowed her dread and her anger and played messenger to Madame de Pompadour, nails digging into her hands at the woman’s condescension and obvious dismissal of her. She buried the self-loathing at her own fumbling, disjointed, _stupid_ speech to the other woman, for embarrassing herself in front of one of the cleverest (and, as she later learned, most snobbish, classist and selfish) women in history. Why couldn’t she manage to sound just a little bit clever? A little more coherent, instead of like an estate chav who’d barely learned to read and was just the dumb messenger, nothing more? And the worst part was that the other woman had seen it, and treated her as exactly that. A nobody.

In spite of all that, she dutifully tried to stop her from stepping through the time window in search of the Doctor. She even tried, in spite of her own worry and growing anger, to comfort her when confronted with the reality that her whole life was playing out in the blink of an eye for them, and that in spite of their best efforts (well, the _Doctor’s_ best efforts, since apparently she wasn’t much use for anything except messages now, it seemed), the crazy robots were coming for her and no one could do a thing to stop them.

She stood stoically by as the Doctor fumed in agonised impotence, firmly suppressing the roiling in her gut, telling herself again and again that she was making a mountain out of a molehill as the robots teleported to France to cut off Madame de Pompadour's head. She tried and failed to think of something, _anything,_ to get them there in time to save the other woman.

And then she stood and watched in fury and disbelief as the Doctor rode a horse through a one-way mirror to rescue _her_ , and left both her and Mickey (and the _TARDIS_ ) to die on an abandoned ship, sometime, somewhere, in the future. 

The gnawing in her gut became a gaping wound, and every feeling she had seemed to be seething in it because now, she couldn’t hide from the truth anymore.

The Doctor had abandoned her. After promising he wouldn’t. And he’d abandoned her for someone who’d barely been in his life a day, after all his talk of lifespans and living on alone, and curses and lonely Time Lords.

When what he’d really meant was that he just didn’t want to take the slow path with _Rose_.

He’d chosen to walk the slow path with Reinette, though, had thought she was worth it, worth the withering and dying and decay and he wasn’t coming back. Even if he somehow managed, by some miracle, to find his way back to her and Mickey, he wasn’t coming _back_.

Because he didn’t want her anymore, didn’t care for her anymore. Not the way he had before, he’d made that very clear.

New new Doctor, new new feelings.

The Doctor, _her_ Doctor, was gone _._

And everything they’d built together, everything she’d thought she could trust, every foundation she’d thought they stood on, was gone.

It was all crumbling, the confidence and sense of worth that her time with the Doctor had built and the waves of doubt and fear and despair they’d kept at bay were rising with every breath, higher and higher until she thought she’d suffocate.

It was all gone. 

And maybe it had never been at all.

*************************************************************

“Right, this is you. Night, Mickey.”

“What, this it? Thought you was gonna give me the grand tour.”

“I showed you the galley and the infirmary.” Rose shrugged, not much caring how he took it. Not after how he’d behaved earlier, and how gleeful he’d been to tell her how out of the Doctor’s league she was. She was hurting and angry and heartsick and so bone-weary that she could barely stand upright anymore. “No point showin’ you anything else, really. Things aren’t always in the same spot ‘cause she likes to move things ‘round. If you need something, you’ll find it. An’ you have a telly in your room.”

“Wait, what, the rooms move?” Mickey was baffled. “For real?”

“Yeah.”

“How?” he demanded.

“The TARDIS just...rearranges things.”

“What, the _ship_ just does it?” He demanded incredulously. “Why?”

“‘Cause she wants to.” Rose shrugged. 

“Wants to? You’re tellin’ me it’s alive?” Mickey squeaked. “You’re havin’ me on.”

“Think what you want.” She shrugged again. “You’ll see for yourself. And you better be nice to her or you might just find yourself missing things. Or miles away from everythin’ you need.”

Mickey swallowed. “For real?”

“For real.” Opening the door, she ushered him in. “Right, this is you. I’m off to bed. Night.”

“Night,” Mickey echoed faintly. 

As she made her way to her own room, she heard him squeak “Nice TARDIS!”

Normally, she’d have laughed.

But nothing was normal now. 

As she slipped inside her room, she closed and locked the door behind her for the first time since she’d come on board. Because for the first time since she’d come on board, she didn’t want to be found. She wanted to be alone.

“Please,” she said softly to the TARDIS. “Can you take it away?”

With a disapproving chime, the door disappeared.

“Thanks.” She kissed the nearest wall on the way to the bathroom and slipped inside, closing and locking that too.

Perhaps it was foolish, but she needed to be absolutely sure that she was alone. She felt so raw, so stripped to the bone that she couldn’t bear to see anyone- or have them see her. Not like this. Tomorrow, she’d have to deal with the others, would have to pretend, but for now, she just wanted to _be_ , without having to put on a show to save face or pretend that she didn’t know that her time on the TARDIS was almost over. That the Doctor didn’t want her anymore.

She stood numbly, staring at her reflection, leaning heavily on the sink.

It had really happened. 

He’d left her.

Oh, he’d come back to the ship, right enough, but he’d _left_ her after promising he wouldn’t. After promising that he cared for her, after she’d almost thought he’d been going to say that he _loved_ her.

 _“Imagine that happening to someone you-”_ he’d said, and she’d guessed, she’d _hoped_ that he’d meant to say “someone you _loved”_ before being interrupted by the Krillitane. He’d gone on about withering and dying, letting her think that he cared _too_ much, that that was why he wouldn’t take the final step, why he wouldn’t let himself love her, be with her.

The worst part was, she was fairly certain he had loved her once. Angry and wounded, her first, war-torn Doctor had loved her in his own way, even if it wasn’t the way she’d wanted, the way she’d so desperately loved him. He’d cared for her, though and wasn’t shy about showing it, and treated her as though she mattered, as though she could do great things, as if she were someone special.

 _“I only take the best,”_ he’d said. _“An’ I’ve got Rose.”_

_“I could save the world but lose you.”_

_“I’m so glad I met you.”_

And then he’d changed. But he, _that_ him, had loved her.

She’d questioned it, after he changed. Of course she had. She’d wondered if he’d really cared for her so much, because why hadn’t he told her about regeneration? Why hadn’t he trusted her with it?

But the new new Doctor had sworn that wasn’t it at all, that he’d thought she’d never have to deal with it in her lifetime and was afraid to tell her in case it was too much and he lost her, that he was so so sorry and he wanted her with him and didn’t she believe that he was the same man?

And she’d believed him, had believed that he loved her, that he was the same man, in spite of her own fears. Had continued to even after things had started to change. 

And at first, he _had_ seemed to care. He’d been even more touchy-feely than her first Doctor, had sought her out just as often for their usual time together, had seemed to revel in it...until New Earth and then suddenly things weren't the same at all. He hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t behind him, or that she’d been held prisoner in her own mind by a lunatic skin flap. He hadn’t gone looking for her when she’d been missing for _hour_ s in Scotland, trapped with a werewolf and he’d had great fun telling all those people that she was a wild child he’d bought for sixpence. He’d been so cruel to both her and Sarah-Jane, acting as though she was selfish for being angry, for questioning him, when she’d realised that she wouldn’t even be a blip on his radar once she was gone, that he’d abandoned Sarah-Jane and left her stranded in Aberdeen without a second thought. When she confronted him, he’d given her a self-pitying spiel about withering and dying and promised that he’d never leave _her_. 

As if she were somehow special, different.

She gripped the sink tightly, her rage entwined with shame.

Maybe, when things had started to change, she’d held on because she just hadn’t been able to face the fact her Doctor was gone. Maybe she was seeing something that wasn’t there anymore. 

Maybe she’d held on because she’d wanted to keep believing that she _was_ special, that she could do great things. That she really was worth something and her first Doctor hadn’t been seeing things that weren’t really there. And wasn’t that ironic? When, after Jimmy, she’d been so sure that she’d never let anyone trick her into thinking she was more than she was again, that if her feet were firmly rooted in reality no one could hurt her again? 

She’d never told her Doctor about how Jimmy had treated her as if she was special, how he’d made her believe it, how he’d built her up and then, when he had her, had torn her down. He’d taken all that confidence and deliberately crushed it, mocking her when she tearfully questioned him, laughing that she’d ever believed otherwise, that she’d ever thought she was worth anything. He’d flung every desperate question and plea back into her face with cruelty and venom, taking immense pleasure in telling her each and every way in which she was nothing; her looks (“Haven’t you looked in a mirror Rose? Face that would make a dog howl!”), her body (“God you’re fat. Blooming heifer! Stop crying! You should be glad I want you at all!”), her mind (“Stop talkin’! God you’re _stupid_. Just shut up and let me do the thinkin’.”), her personality (“How the hell are you so boring? Why can’t you be more like Mandy Philips?”) and her dreams (“Course you won’t travel, you daft bint! You’ll stay here and work and look after the flat and that’s all you’re good for! Don’t you forget it!”).

No, the Doctor hadn’t known any of it, but he’d guessed enough, had spent so long building her up, telling her and _showing_ her that she was special, teaching her and showing her things she never thought she’d see. He’d thought she was clever, had believed that she could do things, that she could make a difference. He’d even come looking for comfort from _her_ , that night after Van Statten’s museum. 

She’d fought him at first, had kept telling herself that it hurt less to stay on the ground than it did to have someone push you off the edge, that she was just an Estate girl, nothing special, hadn’t even finished school, a nobody by anyone’s standards. But slowly her first Doctor had worn away at that defensive armour, had slowly and patiently shown her how brilliant she was, how fantastic she was, and how highly he thought of her. When he’d burned and the new doctor had come, that terror, the thought of being rejected, of being found wanting had reared its head again but he’d sworn nothing had changed, that he still wanted her. And she’d believed him.

But today, he’d left her.

And now, for the hundredth time, she wondered if she hadn’t got it all wrong, hadn’t read too much into their time together. She wondered if the new new Doctor didn’t care about her the same way the first one had, and if maybe the first one hadn’t cared about her the way she’d thought at all. She wondered if the spiel about lifespans and everyone leaving him had been his way of gently putting her off without hurting her feelings (and ha! Wasn’t that the biggest joke, because now her entire being hurt) because he simply didn’t want her that way?

What if he made her leave? Was she going to lose her home now, too? Now that he didn’t want her? Would he just drop her off at her mum’s one day on a visit and then disappear forever, taking away the only thing she’d done that mattered, the only _life_ she’d mattered, if only for a little?

Staring blankly at her reflection, she inhaled, knuckles white with tension as the seething rage and betrayal and disappointment and rejection brought up old hurts and memories still fresh. It brought back words that wounded and fists that bruised and warring, conflicting feelings of rage and wanting to confront him, to tell him that she deserved better than this, that she was worth something, and the urge to hide, to stay still, knowing that if she didn’t draw attention to herself, she might avoid that pain that followed.

She recognised the numbness that was fighting to drown out the other feelings, and she welcomed it. The numbness had always been her friend, had helped her get through, so she didn’t have to face the surging emotions that wore at her, the memories that hurt, both old and new, and the loss of love and self all over again. 

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting the blessed relief of numbness envelop her, remembering lessons hard-learned that some things, some _feelings_ were too hard to feel and were better left alone, pushed into a corner of her mind and forgotten. It was so easy, _too_ easy to embrace the emptiness, and push it all away.

Later, she’d deal with it all later. Now, just needed...quiet. Peace.

Opening her eyes, she mechanically stripped and tossed her clothes on the floor. She never wanted to see them again.

As she stepped into the shower, she clung to the numbness as she forced herself to face facts. The Doctor didn’t want her, her time was over and soon, she’d be left behind. He’d made that crystal clear today. If she wanted to stay (and in spite of everything, she did, because the TARDIS was her home, now, this life had become her life and she couldn’t imagine any other) then she had to act as though everything was normal. The Doctor didn’t want to deal with her emotions, didn’t care what she felt and if she made too much of a nuisance, if she told him off the way she’d wanted to, he might drop her off sooner rather than later and she couldn’t have that. She’d already lost her Doctor, her self-worth and the man she loved- _twice_. She couldn’t bear to think about losing the TARDIS, losing this life, too. If she wanted to keep it for as long as possible, she had to stay still, to blend in with the scenery and act as if everything were fine. She had to keep her distance from the Doctor, the way he wanted- friendly and distant. Not to get too close, not to ask for anything, not to be demanding,...that was the plan.

 _Stay still_.

Flashes of what happened when she dared to move, to need, to stand up for herself, flashed into her mind and she pushed them ruthlessly back.

_Stay still._

_Don’t move._

_Don’t breathe._

_Blend into the background._

Switching off the water, she stepped numbly out of the cubicle and towelled herself dry. As she wrapped her hair, she stared blankly ahead for a moment before shaking herself out of it, and stepping into her sleep shorts and camisole. As she rubbed her hair dry, she noticed a small scratch on her collarbone. It looked fresh, and considering all the robot blades swirling around her, she was amazed that she’d come away with just the one small scratch. 

It wasn’t worth bothering with now, and all she wanted to do was crawl under the covers and rest, safe from prying eyes.

Tomorrow...tomorrow she’d do what she had to stay on the TARDIS and keep her home.

_Stay still._

She could do that. She _had_ to do that.

Everything depended on it.

  
  



	2. Not Quite Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Rose and Mickey on a different, more enjoyable (and by Mickey's request, safer) adventure to make up for the last. However, something isn't right with Rose. She's not behaving like herself and The Doctor is determined to find out what it is. However, it's not quite as straightforward as he thinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello shiny people! As promised, here is the next chapter! Lookit me posting weekly so far! This next chapter is quite different from the last, which was quite heavy and from Rose's POV, focusing on her pain and what she felt after that wretched episode. Now, we're going to see things from the Doctor's view, so it will be different and seemingly lighter at times, although as it gets on, he will start to notice things are not what they seem, and we see Rose from his POV. (knowing what we know from the last chapter) and his gradual (and very limited) realisation that things are not fine at all. This is going to set things up for things to start to get urgent in the next few chapters, so I hope you enjoy the (comparative!) angst break, lol. I hope you like this chapter and I'm not sorry for the repeated RW plugging! Once the muse came up with the game idea, RW was always going to feature- RW FOREVER! <3 <3 <3
> 
> Many thanks for Rose_Nebula for her wonderful (and repeated) beta as always- you are most fabulous <3 All mistakes are mine.
> 
> And now...on with the show and hope you like!

“Whoa!”

“You wanted somewhere _fun-and-not-dangerous_.” The Doctor smirked, enjoying the boy’s wide-eyed reaction. “Reckon this’ll do you, Mickey Smith?”

Mickey turned to him wild-eyed. “It’s...that’s…

“Welcome to Jumanji.” The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “The interactive, full-scale and almost entirely safe real-life immersion version of the film.” He paused. “Ha! Immersion version. It’s always the unintentional rhyme that’s the best.”

“Wait, so this entire _planet_ is the game? The real game?”

“Yep.” He savoured the full pop of his elegant ‘p’. “Walk through those doors and you’re in the game, just like in the film. The original one, though, not that other rubbish.”

“What other rubbish?” Rose frowned, absently scratching at her collarbone. “There’s only one movie.”

“Oh, yeah. Come to think of it, it’s a bit after your time. Not missing much, believe you me.”

“Eh, ‘m happy with the original, thanks. Robin Williams forever.” Rose nodded decisively and turned back to studying the scenery. 

He frowned, wondering yet again why her replies were grating on him today. He couldn’t even point out exactly what was bothering him. Her behaviour had been quite ordinary, after all. She’d talked and laughed with both him and Mickey as she always had. She hadn’t avoided or ignored him, as he’d half expected her to do in a typical, jealous human snit after... recent adventures (he staunchly refused to consider those adventures and steeled himself with memories of Time Lords and curses and a planet long dead). To his surprise, she hadn’t even so much as hinted at anger or feelings he’d almost damned himself running away from. She’d eaten her usual breakfast and taken her usual thirty-four and a half minutes to shower and dress. On the surface, everything was fine. 

Except it wasn’t. She’d been almost normal, but _almost_ normal wasn’t normal. She wasn’t quite... _right._ He didn’t like it.

“So what, we just walk through the doors and we’re in? Just like that?” Mickey spoke, then, bringing the Doctor’s attention back to the less than impressive specimen before him.

“Weeeell, in a manner of speaking.” He tilted his head to the side, determinedly _not_ looking at Rose as she peered at a nearby well. “Have to register of course, and go through the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“Course Mickey!” He stared at the boy in amazement. “We haven’t signed the T’s and C’s, have we? And you have to sign the T’s and C’s. Can’t be forgetting the T’s and C’s.” He paused. “I like a good T and C. And you might want to get insurance and it’s cheaper to get it at the outset than halfway in, let me tell you! Intergalactic Insurance Co. make a packet from this place.”

“Insurance?” Mickey swallowed. “In case we die? Like Judy?”

“Who’s Judy?” the Doctor frowned in confusion. 

“In the movie!” Mickey squeaked. “Thought you’d said you’d seen it!”

“Yeah, along with a million other films. Cut an old man some slack, Mickey. Like to see how you do when you’re nine-hundred years old.”

“Nine hundred?” Mickey stared. “You're _nine hundred years old?”_

The Doctor felt slightly insulted at the expression of disbelief on the idiot’s face. “Give or take. Not polite to go shouting a bloke’s age, you know.”

“You brought it up!”

“So I did.” He frowned. “What for?” 

“Insurance,” Rose said, now peering at the gleaming wooden doors that resembled the game board in every way, complete with logo. “ Mickey was askin’ about insurance and you went off on a spiel about old age and movies.”

“Right you are Rose Tyler!” He beamed at her and frowned a little at the smile he got back. He didn't like it. No idea why, of course- it was a nice smile, just the right width, unforced and Rose was a nice-looking human (he refused to contemplate just _how_ nice looking), especially when she smiled. But he didn’t like this smile one bit and he didn’t know why. 

He _really_ didn’t like it.

“So are we likely to die in this place?” Mickey broke into his thoughts.

“Nah, far less likely than we’d normally do. There are very strict safety protocols here- mechanical checks and ejection points, distress calls, beacons, the lot. Nothing can really kill you- except your teammates, I suppose. It just looks that way. All very nonlethal. The insurance is to cover you if you twist your ankle or lose your designer handbag.”

“Right,” Mickey said faintly. “Handbags.”

“Weeeeeeeell, not just handbags!” he felt compelled to point out. “Backpacks too. And Spacepacks. Satchels, the odd briefcase- just about every kind of bag, except for bum bags. They’re absolutely _not_ covered.”

“What, seriously? How come?” Rose turned to him and tilted her head curiously, causing his mind to practically preen with satisfaction. 

(Not that he’d ever admit it.)

(But he did.)

(Preen, that is.)

(Mentally.)

(If mental preening were a thing- which he supposed it must be, since he was mentally preening.)

(He really should look into how to quieten his previous incarnations because he was almost certain he’d heard a Northern growl about cretins rambling.)

“Doctor?”

He blinked to find her staring at him expectantly. “What’s that?”

“Why won’t they insure bum bags?”

“Oh!” He grinned. “That. Pretty basic really- they couldn’t agree what to call it. This planet was founded by humans, you see, and unfortunately a number of them had retained certain prejudices about British and American nomenclature- even though most of them had never even seen Earth. And then you add all the space varieties in and poof! Hot topic. Explosive,” he added for good measure. “It got nasty, what with the bum bag battlers and the fanny pack foiblers and the dangle-bag diehards and, don’t even get me started on the gibble-gretting hoobbits or the plork-zeen dinglebats.” He shook his head. “Ended up an absolute blood bath, so in the end they made a unilateral agreement not to name the wretched things in a single document. Officially, Jumaniji has no position on bum bags.”

“I...Right…” Rose said faintly, scratching at her collarbone again and adjusting her blue t-shirt. “Glad I asked, then.”

“Always with the right questions!” he beamed.

She gave him another smile he didn’t like (and didn’t _know_ why he didn’t like it) and turned to Mickey. “So you OK with this one then?”

“I...yeah...I mean, Jumanji, Rose!” the boy babbled, seizing her arm. “Jumanji!”

The Doctor hid a frown at the close contact. He wasn’t annoyed. Far from it. It was why he’d brought Mickey along, after all- so Rose would have some human company if she needed...human things, like affection. Or closeness. And for himself, to provide a reminder that he couldn’t give her what even Mickey the Idiot could, and a buffer to stop any Time Lord-Human intermingling.

He wasn’t annoyed.

Every past regeneration in his mind snorted in disbelief and he shook his head in irritation. He’d _never_ had this kind of interference from previous regenerations before. Usually, his previous incarnations were happily settled behind the memory barrier and paid little attention to his current self, let alone bothering to comment on his actions. For the last two days, however, they’d all been going mad and he had no idea how to shut them... _him_...up. His Ninth self was the worst of the lot (and he’d been growling at him since virtually the minute he’d regenerated), but the others had all piped in often enough and it was _odd_. He blamed his Ninth self for stirring them... _him_... up.

He refused to consider why.

“So we goin’ in or what?” Rose’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Sign in and whatever?”

“Yes!” Mickey squealed and dragged her off to the gleaming doors. The Doctor would never admit it but he was glad to see Rose subtly shake off Mickey’s arm and walk placidly beside him.

She didn’t look back.

He frowned. Now, _that_ was odd. No cheeky smile tossed over her shoulder? No wink? No shared eye roll at Mickey’s antics?

Odd. Perhaps she wasn’t as pleased with this planet as she’d let on. Or, as his obnoxiously loud Ninth incarnation growled, perhaps she wasn’t as pleased with _him_ as she’d seemed to be. 

But she’d seemed so normal! Well, almost normal. She hadn’t been angry, or told him off or questioned him, as he’d expected her to do. She was just Rose being Rose. Only, he admitted to himself, he’d never known Rose to hold back from a right proper Tyler telling off, when she was steamed. But she hadn’t said a word about...recent events. And whilst he’d had no intention of having _that_ conversation, he’d expected her to say _something_. He inhaled, considering. Maybe she’d taken the hint and was taking a step back from him, emotionally. 

Something twisted in his gut.

That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? Some distance between them- a little less intimacy, a little more caution? Yes, he told himself. It was what he’d wanted. It was what he’d almost destroyed himself and the universe trying to achieve, and he was pleased.

He _was._

He exhaled. Well, then- that was that, and he made to follow one jeopardy friendly pink and yellow human and her pet idiot.

He ignored the voice of his Ninth incarnation calling him a daft apeth, and told the others to pipe down as they hadn't even met Rose and didn’t have the right to have an opinion on her. He cringed at their response and tried to focus on Jumanji and the impending paperwork. He liked paperwork.

And then...well. Then for the strictly platonic adventures of two humans and a weary old Time Lord- if only he could shake off that feeling that something was _really_ wrong, that something had changed for the worse. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

_The Game Glade, Jumanji_

“Right. So, now what?” Rose looked around expectantly, shifting her new Alan Parrish backpack, emblazoned with the smiling face of the late, great Robin Williams. “Do we just go?”

The Doctor frowned. To his surprise, she’d bought it in the supply shop to carry water and sandwiches, even though he’d offered his pockets. In fact, he was fairly certain he might have a bottle or two and possibly a pie rolling around in there already. And even more surprising, she’d paid for it with her own credit stick, before he’d managed to so much as find his.

Odd. She was usually happy to rely on his bigger-on-the-inside pockets. And his credit stick. And it made no difference anyway, as they were both issued by the TARDIS. 

He chose not to dwell on it and slipped his hand into his pockets. “Yeah, in a manner of speaking. Each contestant is the equivalent of a playing piece, but like the film, contestants can help each other with challenges and so on.”

Mickey pulled off his shiny new Jumanji cap and scratched at his head. “What do we do if we get lost?”

“You’ve got the communication watch they gave you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Mickey plonked his cap back on his head and waved his left arm. “Where’s yours?”

“Oh, somewhere in my pocket.” The Doctor gestured dismissively. “Don’t usually bother with that sort of thing.”

“What? What if you get lost? Or something happens?”

“I’m _never_ lost!” The Doctor bristled at the mere implication. “Tell him, Rose!”

She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Come off it, you love getting lost!”

“I never!”

“Yeah you do. You love showin’ up to places not knowin’ if we’re allowed in and eatin’ the wrong food and throwin’ yourself in...” she blanched and stopped suddenly, the words of his Ninth incarnation practically hanging in the air.

_“Time travel is like visiting Paris. You can’t just read the guidebook. You’ve got to throw yourself in! Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double and end up kissing complete strangers!”_

He froze, his face an expressionless mask while his stomach seethed, waiting to see what Rose would say on recalling seemingly ill-fated words (although he was fairly certain Rose didn’t know about the aptness of the snogging part...did she?). Would she be angry? Or worse, tearful? Nostalgic? Would she wish she could replace him with his Ninth self? Either way, he sensed it was going to be difficult and confronting and perhaps just a little bit deserved (not that he’d ever say it aloud) on his part.

Her reaction surprised him.

She stood stone-still for the briefest of moments and then blinked, forcing a wide smile. “Anyway, you love it and you know it, Doctor. Right, Micks, we gettin’ a move on or what? How do we start the game, Doctor?”

He blinked. “What?”

“The game, Doctor,” she said patiently, her expression not showing the slightest hint of upset. “How do we start? Where are the dice?”

“The dice?” He repeated, still stunned that she hadn’t seized the opportunity to vent a bit of human spleen and get a few digs in, if nothing else. Snapping his attention back to the oddly calm human in front of him, he gave her his biggest smile- the one that usually, if he paid any attention to her biochemistry (which he absolutely did not) he might say left her a little bit hot and bothered. Which he wouldn’t, of course. “Oh, right, yes! You push this button here, turn left and follow the tunnel to the board.”

Rose blinked, chafing at the neck of her t-shirt and looking completely unaffected. “They have a board set up in the middle of nowhere?”

“In a way.” He smiled again, dashingly. “Go ahead, you’ll see what I mean.”

She shrugged and turned to Mickey. “Alright, let’s see.”

Before he knew it, the two of them were walking through the glade and he was left staring after them, gaping. Clearing his throat, he strode after them, all the while wondering if Rose had ingested some sort of mood altering substance today. It might have been those biscuits from Yahoei, or perhaps it was the chocolate she’d insisted on buying last week in Lopia...but no, she’d been eating both of those for a week and she’d been fine. Perhaps it was something in the air here? But the ‘almost normal’ had been bothering him since she’d woken up, so it couldn’t be.

He sighed in frustration. What could make Rose Tyler behave _not_ like Rose Tyler? Because that was the mystery. He’d expected a bit of a telling off over France, if he were honest with himself. He’d gone and jumped through the time-window and left them both behind (and he refused to consider that Rose might know any more than that to be angry about). True, he knew he’d probably manage to get back at some point, _somehow,_ but Rose wouldn’t have known that. And there was, of course, the teensiest chance that he might have come back too late, but he refused to think about that too much. He’d had no choice, he’d had to save Reinette. Still, he’d expected a bit of human jealousy, or anger at the very least for leaving them behind, an argument like the one they’d had over Sarah-Jane, but there’d been nothing.

There was just a niggling sense of disquiet and things not being right, and it was driving him mad. Cringing at a particularly pointed remark from his Ninth self, he shook himself out of his reverie. It was fine. Things were fine and he was making a mountain out of a molehill, and perhaps it was out of the teensiest bit of guilt, for leaving them on that space station without so much as a word (and a kiss Rose knew nothing about. Even though it was none of her business. But still. There it was.).

He’d have gotten back, though. Of course he would.

“Oh my God.”

Blinking, he focused on his companions, who appeared to have reached-

“Would you look at this game board!” Mickey squawked. “Just look at it Rose! Just like the one in the movie! Only this one is, it’s-”

“It’s the ground,’ she said, staring wide-eyed at the enormous green field covered with full-sized, looping white tiles. Alongside it stood a sign with the famous warning to those who wanted to play. “This whole..field, place- it _is_ the board!”

“Do we walk on the spaces, then? When we roll?” Mickey demanded, turning this way and that. “How do we roll, anyway? Where’s the dice at, boss?”

The Doctor pointed to a nearby chip reader, enjoying their reactions. “Game token goes in there when it’s your turn to roll. It’s a randomly generated dice program, stops cheating, you see. And yes, when it rolls, you’ll find you’re moved to the right place on the board.”

“Then what?” Mickey demanded.

“Then we’re all teleported to wherever each place marks and the game begins. You have to get through every trial to get back to the board and roll again. First one to reach the centre wins.”

“Right,” Mickey swallowed. “ We gonna do this, then?”

“Go on.” Rose pushed him over to the chip reader. “Do it.”

“Yeah. Course.” He eyed the reader suspiciously before nervously popping his token into the reader. 

A dais next to the board rose, bearing an enormous cup. The cup rattled and poured out two large dice.

“Seven,” a voice boomed. “The game begins.”

With that, Mickey was moved swiftly around the board to the seventh place.

“How are they doin’ it?” He gasped. “Is it hover shoes? Magnets! Is it magnets?”

“Course it’s not magnets!” The Doctor rolled his eyes. “How could it be magnets? You have magnets hidden at the bottom of your shoes, Mickey? Honestly!”

“What is it then?” The boy sounded both elated and terrified.

“Simple physics- propelling forces.”

“Oh.” Mickey almost sounded disappointed. 

Honestly. Humans.

“You lot are absolutely ridiculous,” The Doctor shook his head. “Here I’ve just told you about propulsion and forces and you’re upset because it’s not mysterious hover-shoe magic of some kind. What about the magic of physics, then? Hey? What about that?”

Looking over to Rose, he grinned, expecting a quick eyeroll or wink at Mickey’s foolishness. 

What he got was a philosophical shrug. 

Before he could open his mouth to make a clever remark that would break that impassive facade and tickle every bone she had, Mickey gasped and pointed at the middle of the game, where text was forming in the eye.

_This will not be an easy mission, monkeys slow the expedition._

Moments later, a voice sounded across the field.

“Teleporting to the jungle in 3,2,1.”

In a flash, they were gone.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

_The Last Lake, Several hours later_

“Man, that was scary.”

Rose was rummaging in her backpack as they sat by a large tree, and didn’t look up. “What, the giant mosquitoes? Yeah they looked a bit creepy, but they were droids, they couldn’t bite us or anythin’.”

“How did you know?” Mickey demanded.

Rose shrugged as she pulled out a bottle of water. “Well, the Doctor said there were all these lawyers involved in buildin’ this place and that it was safe, didn’t he? Don’t think they’d be putting in mosquitoes the size of a small dog, then. Lawyers don’t like that sort of thing- liability.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a moment. “Guess I didn’t think of that.”

Rose shrugged again. “They looked real.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t buy it though.” Mickey paused, scratching at the dirt with a hand. “You worked it out.”

“I’ve been doin’ this a while.” Rose finally looked at Mickey for a moment as she zipped up her bag. “That’s all. ‘M used to things not being what they seem.”

“Yeah, but still, it was proper clever Rose.” The boy sounded surprised and the Doctor, from his place several hundred metres back, eavesdropping shamelessly with his enhanced hearing, rolled his eyes. Of course it was clever. Rose _was_ clever. She was _brilliant_. He waited eagerly to hear her put the idiot in his place.

Once again, she surprised him.

“‘M not actually stupid, Mickey,” was all she said. “”Whatever people think.”

And with that mysterious speech lacking in any sort of outrage, Rose Tyler fire, or even (a bloke could hope) a Tyler slap, she slipped the pack onto her shoulders and started walking, leaving a gaping Mickey sitting behind in the dirt. 

Moments later, he scabbled frantically and heaved himself up to run after her. The Doctor followed more stealthily. As far as they knew, he’d gone back into the trees to look at some interesting flora and would meet them by the lake. In reality, he’d seen one so-called Palsania bush up close and returned in disgust. Imitation rubbish, with no healing properties whatsoever. He might have known- they were incredibly rare after all...

“I never said you was stupid Rose!”

Mickey’s plaintiff whine broke into this thoughts and brought his mind back to the matter at hand, and the reason he was tailing his companions in the hopes of overhearing something useful.

Rose and her strange, _almost normal_ behaviour.

“Never said you did,” she said in that infuriatingly calm tone of hers.

“Why’d you say it then?” Mickey demanded. 

“Because you were surprised that I’d managed to work something out for myself.” Rose shrugged, scratching furiously at her collarbone. “Was pretty obvious.”

“I didn’t mean you were stupid. I just…”

“Was surprised I worked out somethin’ actually useful.” Rose rolled her eyes. “‘S fine Mickey, let it go already. We’re still ages away from the lake an’ I’m gettin’ tired. We’ve been at this for hours.”

They strode along quietly, before Mickey broke the silence again.

“Are you still mad at me?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Maybe it was all to do with Mickey?

“Mad at you?” Rose turned to look at him. ‘Why would I be mad at you? Did you eat those chocolates I told you not to touch?”

“What? No!”

“Alright, then ‘m not mad.”

“No, I mean.” Mickey huffed. “Cause of yesterday.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. What had Mickey the Idiot done to Rose yesterday?

“What, you mean cause we ended up on that space station? ‘S not your fault, sometimes you really can’t help where you end up…”

“No, I mean….what I said. About, you know, Sarah-Jane and Cleopatra and Madam De Pompadour.”

“What about them?”

The Doctor was beginning to loathe that calm, pleasant tone of hers. He really was.

“Look, I just- I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry I rubbed your face in it like that. I know you an’ the Doctor are-”

“There’s no ‘me and the Doctor’.” Rose cut in, her tone sharp. “So you don’t need to apologise for whatever it was you think you said, alright?”

He’d never admit it but the Doctor was irrationally hurt by that blunt assessment, never mind that he’d been trying to make exactly that point for weeks now.

“Come off it Rose,” Mickey sighed. “I know how you two are, alright?”

Rose sighed impatiently. “We’re not _anything_ , Mickey. We’re just friends, alright?”

“Friends?” Mickey snorted. 

“Yes, friends. Travel buddies. Whatever you want to call it. Totally platonic and nothin’ else.”

The Doctor swallowed, watching them through the trees. It was good that she was fine with it. 

It was.

“Platonic my arse,” Mickey snorted. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“Don’t start.” Rose scoffed. “Just drop it, alright?”

“I’m serious Rose, I’ve _seen_ it. I saw how he looked at you the first day you met him, I saw how he looked at you when you turned him down and when he came back, I saw how he looked at you after he nearly blew you up to get rid of those farting aliens, I saw how he looked at you that day in Cardiff… I SAW, Rose!”

The Doctor scowled and mentally prodded his Ninth incarnation for being too obvious. He ignored the pithy curse he got in response.

“You saw how he _looked_ at me Mickey, not how he _looks_ at me. Whatever the first Doctor felt, this one doesn’t.”

The Doctor stopped, mouth open. What did she mean by _that?_

“What? But he’s the same bloke, isn’t he? He said he was!” Mickey gaped. “What are you on about?”

For once, the Doctor found himself agreeing with Mickey.

Rose stopped for a moment, pulling out her map tablet and consulting it before heading east. “This way.”

“Rose?” Mickey persisted, hurrying after her. “What do you mean this one doesn’t? Is he the same bloke or not?”

“Yeah, course he is,” Rose said smoothly. “He’s still the Doctor.”

“Then why did you-”

“Because obviously this Doctor’s feelin’s are different. He’s the same bloke, but when he changed he got new feelin’s, new thoughts, which is fair enough. He shouldn’t have to live with someone else’s feelin’s should he?”

“Well, no-”

“Right, so new new Doctor, new new feelings. So whatever my Doctor thought or felt, Mickey, this one doesn’t. Now hurry up, we’re nearly done an’ I want a shower.”

The Doctor remained frozen in place after they’d left, mind reeling, hearing her words again and again. For all his attempts at distance, he’d never thought it would go _this_ far, that she’d go back to thinking he wasn’t _him_ anymore or that he didn’t care two figs for her. He’d been desperate to push them back onto a friendlier, less intimate footing, fearing the closeness that had developed, but hadn’t meant to push her quite _this_ far.

_“Whatever my Doctor thought or felt, Mickey, this one doesn’t.”_

This was very, very not good.


	3. Red Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose, Mickey and Doctor try to attend a festival on Mars. But as always, they run into trouble and have to foil a political plot. However, Rose isn't feeling so well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello shiny people! Here is the next chapter of this little story. I'm going to apologise upfront if this isn't any good, because I've had a horrible week in RL at the moment, and am dealing with a very difficult situation. Consequently, everything I write feels flat and cobbled together and...ugh. I don't like it. Le sigh. 
> 
> Many thanks to Rose_Nebula for the beta, listening to me whinge about this fic incessantly, and listening to my plot planning ramblings (and complaints). You are the very best <3 All mistakes are mine, and hopefully this isn't too terrible.
> 
> Trigger warning: This chapter contains some medical-y type stuff that may be a bit icky for some. Be ye warned. 
> 
> PLEASE BE AWARE: Rose in this fic is suffering from PTSD. We’ve seen bits and pieces of that in how she’s trying to deal with her feelings and the situation, and the next chapter will explore it much more fully. In the meantime, please keep that in mind as you read this chapter and we see that drive more and more of her actions the worse the episode gets, and the weaker she physically gets. I’m not one to police comments but I am going to ask people to please bear in mind that there are very likely people reading the fic and all our comments who are or have been in a similar situation to Rose and I don’t want them to think they’re in any way being labelled stupid or irrational.  
> PTSD is serious business, folks. 
> 
> Lots of love and on with the show!

“Rose!”

She groaned.

“Rose, you up?”

She groaned again, the pounding at the door matching the pounding in her head beat for beat.

“Rose!” More pounding. “You awake?”

“Course I’m awake,” she growled at last, the racket and the throbbing making her brusque. “What with you poundin’ on the door like that. What d’you want?”

“The Doctor won’t land until you’re up, an’ I don’t want to miss half the day!”

Rose yawned and stretched, inhaling sharply as she felt a sharp, painful pulling at her collarbone. “‘S not goin’ anywhere Mickey. Time machine, yeah? We’ll still land at the same time we would’ve anyway.”

“Well, s’cuse me, Miss I-live-in-a-time-machine, but some of us have only been at this for a couple of days!”

“No days on the TARDIS,” she pointed out, desperate to buy herself a little more time in bed. Why was she so tired? “Which means havin a lie doesn’t mean less time for outin’s. Just give us another hour, Mickey.”

“Rose! Come _on!”_

God, her head ached. 

“Rose!”

 _“Fine,”_ she growled, seeing that there was no getting rid of him. With a heavy sigh, she dragged herself wearily out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes on her way to the shower.

Ten minutes, one hot shower and two painkillers later, she stood in front of her mirror, wrapped in a towel as she dried her hair. She still felt like death, although thankfully, the hot water had soothed her aching muscles a little, and even lessened the throbbing in her head to a dull ache. Casting a longing look at the nearby spa bath, she sighed, dreaming of a lazy day with hot baths and lounging in bed.

Ah, well. She’d do better to enjoy the time she had for adventures now because who knew how much longer she’d be on the TARDIS? There’d be plenty of time for lounging about in bed when she was back at her mum’s, trapped in a life that she no longer fit.

Forcing herself to snap out of her thoughts and back to getting ready, she stared at her reflection and frowned at her collarbone. Gently, she poked at the angry, swollen cut, and immediately hissed in pain _._ Setting her teeth, she carefully prodded the reddened area around it, flinching. 

It _hurt._

 _Fabulous,_ she sighed to herself. Just her luck, she’d managed to get it infected. It was all she needed when the Doctor was determined to take them to some big festival today. She had no idea why but he’d been hyperactive (even for him!) since they’d gotten back from Jumanji- bouncing about, going on about this festival for hours, only stopping to ask her the weirdest questions and beam at her before going off again. She had no idea what he was about but she was doubly glad she’d asked the TARDIS to move her room again last night. After the day they’d had, she hadn't had the strength left to deal with his epic mood swings. 

She sighed. She didn’t have the strength _now_ , truth be told- she was tired and grumpy and wanted to hide in her bed for a day or two. In the not so recent past, she’d have told the Doctor she needed a day in bed and lounged about the TARDIS without a second thought, laughing at his jibes about fragile humans. 

But now...well, who knew how much longer she’d be here? And she wasn’t going to give him any excuse to take her home, any hint that she couldn’t keep up. She’d keep up, no complaining, and she’d be _fine._

She _had_ to be fine.

Which meant she needed a bit of help.

“Can I have Jack’s antiseptic cream?” She begged the TARDIS. “Please?’

Jack had introduced her to the strong, forty-third century antiseptic cream months ago, when he’d tried to patch her up in the midst of a revolution after they’d been separated from the Doctor. She’d been dirty and wounded and bruised and scraped and he’d insisted on cleaning her wounds and lathering her with the cream to avoid infection.

She viciously pushed back a pang of longing for her friend. Apart from the Doctor- the _first_ Doctor- he’d been the first person to really see her as someone worthwhile. He’d cared about her, he was her friend and she’d loved him.

And now he was gone, lost somewhere in time and space- or maybe, as she’d thought until recently, he was dead and the Doctor hadn’t wanted to tell her. She’d thought, at first, that as her Doctor was about to regenerate, he’d needed to get away and they’d go back to find him. But they hadn’t and she’d thought he was dead. Now, after everything that had happened to her and knowing this Doctor as she did, she wondered now whether he’d deliberately wanted to leave Jack behind, whether he just didn’t want him anymore. 

The way he didn’t want _her._

The Doctor had insisted on keeping the cream in the infirmary because it was so strong that excess use could cause third-degree burns. Of course she’d protested, telling him that she wasn’t so stupid that she’d use half a tube of the stuff on a single spot, but he’d been adamant. 

“ _You can use it right here where I can see you, Rose.” He’d nodded, arms folded. “Fragile creatures, you humans, don’t want you burnin’ a hole in your skin.”_

Ruthlessly suppressing the grief she felt at any thought of the Doctor, the one who’d loved her, the one she’d loved and never had a chance to mourn, she inhaled deeply and turned to the TARDIS.

“Please?” She begged. “I really need it.”

The TARDIS flashed, and even without the usual pictures in her mind, Rose knew that the TARDIS was _not_ pleased.

“Look, you know how it is, yeah? You know how things are.”

There was a sympathetic hum.

“An’ it’s somethin’ so small an’ I just...I don’t want to bother him with it. Not for a cut. An’ I don’t want to hold us up when a bit of cream would fix it!”

Another hum and a flash.

“He _would_ turn it into a big deal and you know it. He’s practically been looking for reasons and I’m not handin’ him an excuse like this to drop me off.” Rose swallowed at another protesting flash. “He would! He _did_ leave me- he left _us!_ I can’t...it’s not the same, _he’s_ not the same and I can’t...I won’t bother him with somethin’ so stupid. Not when he doesn’t want me here anymore, not when he’d take any excuse to get rid of me and I can’t... Just, please, can I have the cream?”

A displeased hum and a strong sense of resignation pervaded the room, so strong Rose was amazed that she managed to remain standing.

Rose sighed. This was going to take a bit of work.

Finally, fifteen minutes and a lot of begging later, the TARDIS grudgingly provided the cream and a small dish with a single marking on it. 

Rose sighed with relief, patting the nearest wall. “Thanks love.”

The TARDIS hummed in irritation as Rose carefully squeezed a small amount into the dish, making sure it didn’t go past the marking. Dabbing her finger into the cool gel, she rubbed the strong-smelling cream carefully across the cut as Jack had shown her what seemed so long ago. It stung, much more than she remembered, but as it had before, it dried almost instantly. Smiling ruefully at the TARDIS’ warning flash, she chucked the dish into the little bin next to her and carefully washed her hands.

The TARDIS hummed in satisfaction and Rose swallowed back tears at the ship’s care as she finished dressing. She couldn’t imagine living without her, now. What would she do without the TARDIS? 

Rose exhaled and firmly seized control of her runaway thoughts. She’d just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she was _here_ , she was travelling and she was seeing things most people would never dream of. The crash back into reality could wait until later.

With a deep breath, she made for the console room, painkillers, mobile and credit stick tucked safely into her pocket, the pain in her head and her collarbone an annoying reminder of her situation. 

She was fine, she told herself. It was nothing.

She was fine.

She had to be.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Haboolah!”

Rose turned to the Doctor, eyebrows raised. “Say what?”

“Haboolah, Rose!” He beamed. “I managed to land us here just in time for the Grand Haboolah!”

“You know it didn’t make any more sense the third time you said it than it did the first, right?” Mickey grumbled, trudging through the crowd behind them, and scowling as he was elbowed yet again. “It’s still not a real word.”

“Course it’s a real word,” the Doctor snapped, offended. “It’s a very real word and we’re here in time for the Haboolah!”

“Stop saying that!” Mickey snapped crossly. 

“Saying what? Haboolah? Ha- _boo_ -lah,” the Doctor enunciated, smirking at Mickey’s glare.

Rose intervened, her head beginning to throb in spite of the painkillers she’d taken earlier. She didn’t have the patience to deal with either of them right now. “What _is_ it, though, Doctor?”

“Brilliant question!” he beamed. “As always Rose.”

She forced herself to smile, the weariness seeming to settle into her bones. “Right, so?”

“So?” He looked at her expectantly.

“What is this whatsit, Doctor?” she said patiently, burying the urge to grind her teeth in frustration. Had her headache gotten worse since they’d landed?

“Ah! Weeeell, it’s a few things, really. Strictly speaking, a haboolah is a small, sturdy vegetable. Near as I can tell, it’s a variant of your garden variety earth potato.”

“What?” Mickey interrupted. “A _potato?”_

“Yep.” The Doctor ignored Mickey’s glare at his deliberately emphasised ‘p’. “Potato. Spud. Tuber. Tater. Potato!”

Rose shook her head, wondering if the fogginess caused by her headache had somehow caused her brain to miss things. “You brought us here for a potato?”

“Yes! No! Well, yes _and_ no! In a manner of speaking.” The Doctor beamed. “The Haboolah is also the name of a grand festival, held once every fifty years.”

“They named it after a _potato_ ?” Rose demanded, confused. The milling crowds didn’t _look_ like they were here for a farm show. “What, is it a farming thing then? Like a fruit and veg show?”

“Nope.” The Doctor popped onto his toes with another deliberately popped ‘p’, to Mickey’s visible annoyance. “It’s a race.’

“A race?”

“Yep. The greatest spacecraft race in the Milky Way. This small town becomes the centre of the entire galaxy for a week.”

“What town?” Mickey interrupted.

“Haboolah!” The Doctor frowned. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“You said it was a potato!” Mickey squawked indignantly. “The potato and this space race. You didn’t say nothin’ about a town!”

“Oh, well, this town is the only place you can grow genuine haboolahs.” The Doctor nodded sagely. “Best haboolahs around, let me tell you.”

“You said they was the only ones!”

“Stands to reason they’d be the best, then.” The Doctor scowled at Mickey. “You need to pay closer attention.”

Wishing her head wouldn’t throb quite so loudly, Rose intervened. “Fine, so it’s a...what, gourmet potato, a town and a space race on…where are we anyway?”

“Mars!” the Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets. “The red planet.”

“Mars?” Mickey squeaked. “We’re on _Mars?”_

“Yep!” 

This time, Rose could have sworn she saw Mickey twitch at the Doctor’s exaggerated ‘p.’

Mickey looked around frantically. “But...but...it’s not red!”

“Course it’s not! Not from _here_. Go into the desert and it’ll be red as anything.” The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Are all your earth cities blue and green, Mickey?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why would you expect a Martian town or city to be red?”

“Where do they race, though?” Rose broke in, wishing they’d both shut up so her head wouldn’t hurt so much. “‘S in the desert, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah! The majority of the track is in the desert and starts and ends in this town. That’s where the finish line is.”

“An’ what’s the prize?”

“Solid platinum haboolah and seven-million credits.”

Mickey blinked. “ 'S that a lot?”

“About the equivalent of twenty million pounds in your time, so yes, I’d say it’s a lot.”

“Blimey.”

“Quite.”

“So this race…” Rose said, absently rubbing at her forehead to ease the tension. “‘S important, then? ‘S like a Formula One or a Grand Prix?”

“Yes but with a twist. Unlike your garden variety Formula One race, this is one of the chief political and charitable events of the century.” The Doctor nodded decisively. “The contestants are all well known political and business figures across the Milky Way, and the winner donates the prize money to a charity or cause of their choice.”

“S’pose that makes sense, if they’re important, they don’t need the money.” Rose nodded slowly. “An’ giving the money kind of gives their cause a bit of…”

“Oomph. Yes, precisely Rose! Brilliant as always.” He beamed. “Just like on Zelpania, with the Intergalactic Carrot Growing Festival. Remember?”

Rose blinked in confusion, wondering why he’d brought up one of her earliest adventures with the last him, and wishing they could sit down for a bit. “Didn’t they grow carrots over two and a half months, though?”

“That’s the one!”

“And didn’t the winner have to hand their carrots over to the archives for preservation? And the losers had to wear their carrots on their heads for a week?”

“Er, yes. They did.”

Rose shook her in bafflement. “So how is it like this Haboolah festival? Do the losers wear a potato?”

“Weeeelll, no…” He grinned sheepishly. “It’s not exactly _like_. Just like in that, it’s er, for charitable purposes. Yes, that was it!”

“Right,” she said faintly. “Charity.”

“Just wanted to make sure you remembered it!”

“Course I remember. How often do you see a bloke wearin’ a carrot on his head to a state dinner?” She wished she knew what he was about, dancing around her with stupid questions about times that would never come back and a man she could never have back, and she _really_ wished there was somewhere to sit down. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smile and change the subject. “So do these spacecraft diplomats race themselves? Or do they get some minion to do it for them?”

“Oh, no, no minions allowed!” The Doctor nodded emphatically. “All accomplished diplomats can drive spacecraft- one of the provinces of the rich and famous, actually. Most ordinary folks can’t afford the lessons or the racing craft.”

“Glad to see things haven’t changed too much,” She muttered. “Same on earth now as it is on Mars in the year….what year is it?”

“Three-thousand and seventy five.”

“Right.” She cocked her head and immediately wished she hadn’t, the air whistling making her head throb all the more. “So what you’re sayin’ is the racers are a bunch of rich blokes and politicians pretending to care about charity for their own reasons.”

“Well, space _people,_ not just space blokes. But in essence, I suppose so.” He frowned. “Not quite as much fun when you put it that way.”

She flinched, kicking herself for rocking the boat (or spaceship). That was exactly what she wasn’t supposed to be doing, and her headache had evidently made her a little too loose-lipped. “Oh, don’t let me ruin it for you,” she said through a wide, forced smile that made the Doctor frown, for some reason. “I’m sure some of ‘em probably care about the charity too, an’ the race sounds like fun, anyway. Look, isn’t that them coming now?”

The crowd roared as she pointed at a long line of shiny craft overhead, flying single file into the town towards what she guessed was the start line.

‘“Blimey,” Mickey gaped. “Would you look at that?”

“Pretty impressive, wouldn’t you say?” The Doctor beamed, his momentary discontent seemingly forgotten.

“Very impressive.” Rose forced herself to smile, reminding herself firmly that she was fine, she could keep up, she was _not_ going to fall over and she was not going to pick a fight about a stupid space race on a planet that wasn’t even hers.

_Stay still._

“Shiny ships! Virtuoso vehicles! Amazing apparatus!” The Doctor peered at the startline. “Ooooooh look, Senator Lopuia of Moldoon and Representative Kibbler of Pojir are next to each other.” He whistled. “That’ll be trouble and a half. You’d have less conflict putting Tudor England and France next to one another.” He paused. “Or post-war Italy and Germany. Big mess, really, either way.”

Rose forced herself to ignore the throbbing that was rising in her head at the sudden roar of engines. “I dunno, they shook hands and seem to be getting along well enough.”

“Oh, they’ll be _polite._ One must be _polite_ at all costs,” The Doctor dismissed her observations. “Doesn’t mean they won’t try to nobble the other chap’s spacecraft the moment they can. Ooooh look! They’re off!”

Rose gritted her teeth at the roaring of engines and the pounding in her head as, with a mighty blast, the contestants were off.

“Can we watch?” Mickey begged. “Please?”

“Course we can!” The Doctor beamed. “You don’t think I’d bring you here just to make you loiter about the finishing line for hours, do you?”

“So we’re goin’ the Martian desert?” Mickey’s eyes were wide with awe.

“Yep. We’ll just nip on this _kibla-_ shuttle to transport the spectators,” the Doctor added at their blank looks. “Fancy a trip to the desert Rose?”

She _just_ managed not to blanch at the thought of trekking through the desert. “Absolutely,” she grinned, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Lead on.”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor beamed. “ _Allons-y!”_

As they made their way to the waiting craft, Rose tried to look on the bright side. At least she could sit on the shuttle, and maybe being out in the peace of the desert would do her some good. She could manage watching a bunch of spaceships race around a desert track for a few hours- it wasn’t as though she’d be racing around trying to stop some kind of political plot. She’d be alright, she wouldn’t ruin the trip for Mickey and the Doctor wouldn’t have a single reason to take her home.

She’d be fine.

She hoped.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

_Field of Blood, Hilotan Desert, Mars_

Several hours later, Rose woozily wondered why in the world she’d thought any adventure involving the Doctor and politicians could ever go smoothly. 

They’d scarcely made it out to the desert before they’d gotten separated from the other spectators at the checkpoint. They’d ended up wandering around the tracks near the fuel-points, only to spot someone attempting to sabotage Senator Lopuia’s ship. It had all gone by in a flurry, repairing the ship, disarming the explosives and chasing the culprit (who was _not_ , surprisingly, Representative Kibbler, and had instead turned out to be the President of Poltroon II, Muldoon’s close neighbour and ally for centuries), who had drugged the senator and was currently hidden in one of the many caves in the famous Martian cave complexes that littered the planet. The Doctor had explained, in between bouts of running and sneaking, that Senator Lopuia was a _very_ central figure in the coming years and couldn’t die before her time, or else the famous Nine-Planet Treaty of the fortieth century would never come into being and an entire planetary system would be laid waste in a never-ending war.

“Very impressive,” the Doctor had said. “One of the most skilled politicians of her time. Very important and absolutely indispensable.”

Unlike Rose herself.

On the one hand, it was incredible, meeting and talking to these important, brilliant women the Doctor seemed to pick up like magnets. On the other hand, though, it was hard for her to hear him talk about them, now that she knew what he thought of _her_. Once, he’d thought she was the best, and didn’t go anywhere without her, and now... now she was half-following this creeper president and half-trying to find the Doctor to make sure he hadn’t left her and Mickey and taken off on a jaunt to some other dimension to stop the president.

She sighed. Maybe that was unfair, and maybe the situation on the space station was different, but in the end, when it came down to it, she wasn’t important to him and he hadn’t been all that bothered to find her about to be chopped up by the clockwork droids. He certainly hadn’t been all that bothered about leaving her to waste away on a space station. And he’d been pretty clear about how impressive he thought she _wasn’t._ Especially compared to an impressive woman like the Senator...or... _other..._ women. So maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched to think he might have taken off and left her behind, or taken off to solve the mystery and forgotten all about her.

What was she, after all? Just some pink and yellow ape that he found amusing sometimes, nothing more. Worse still, after weeks of distance, he was suddenly trying to remind her of their previous closeness, while still acting like the hyperactive, emotionally distant man he’d become. It was baffling and painful and she wondered what she’d done to deserve being treated like a yo-yo. Just because she wasn’t important, just because she wasn’t famous or powerful or clever didn’t mean she was stupid, and it didn’t meant she didn’t have feelings.

And she _hurt_.

Every time in the last two days that he’d tried to remind her of their past adventures, when he’d been a gruff bloke in leather with a Northern accent, and she’d been his partner in crime, his plus one, important to _him_ , if not to anyone else, and they’d been the-Doctor-and-Rose-Tyler-in-the-TARDIS, it had burned another hole in what was left of her strength. How was it fair that he wanted to keep his distance from her, that he reminded her with every word, every action, that it was different now, that _he_ was different now and that Rose Tyler from the Estate wasn’t enough for him anymore, while simultaneously shoving memories of a different time, a different _him_ in her face? A time when she’d been special to him, when she’d felt (however foolishly) clever and worthwhile and special and important?

Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Wasn't it enough that she knew what he thought of her now? That she wouldn’t presume, wouldn’t push him for what he didn’t want to give? Why did he have to rub salt in the wound by reminding her of what used to be, all while maintaining that galling, hyperactive, never-standing-still distance of his? He was making it so very hard to cling to that wonderful numbness she’d been enveloped in since the space station. Thankfully (or not, depending on how you looked at it), she’d had a _lot_ of practice in much worse than she was in now and she’d managed to keep her thoughts from pulling her out of that bubble of numbness.

Barely.

She groaned as her aching muscles called her thoughts back to her present situation, and reluctantly, she stopped, knowing she couldn’t run (or walk) a single step further. Whatever was wrong with her muscles was getting worse.

She inhaled. She just needed a break, she reasoned. A bit of a breather and she’d be fine to keep going. The last she’d seen, the Doctor had disappeared into a nearby cave complex, chasing the assassin and the mouth of that cave system was nearby. If either of them popped out, they’d end up walking past her. If they didn’t, if they were somewhere else entirely...well collapsing wouldn’t help her find them. Sighing with relief, she dropped the ground behind a large boulder, panting, her muscles aching and heavy, and what had been a dull ache in her head now at full roar. As she reached into her right pocket to pull out the painkillers, she hissed in pain at the burning sensation in her collarbone.

She should have thought to bring some more of the antiseptic cream with her, she growled to herself. Obviously, using it once hadn’t been enough. Trying to ignore the stabbing pain, she popped another two tablets into her mouth and, grimacing, swallowed them dry.

Now...now she’d sit for just a little bit and then she’d get on with finding the Doctor. And Mickey, for that matter, because she’d bet her last painkiller that he wasn’t waiting by the cave entrance he was supposed to be guarding. Knowing Mickey, he’d probably have snuck off to look at the spacecraft being repaired and refueled nearby.

A soft crackling snapped her attention back to her own situation. Glancing frantically about, she tried to remember if the Doctor had mentioned scorpions or snakes on Mars because she did _not_ need to add snake bites or scorpion venom to her list of problems right now.

A second sound, not far away, made her crawl painfully to her knees, peer round the edge of her boulder … and smile grimly.

Because whilst the hooded figure crawling carefully out of the nearby cave mouth couldn’t be called a reptile, he was definitely a snake.

And he was coming right at her.

The problem was, she was tired, and he was bigger than her. So, she reasoned, she had to surprise him. Holding her breath, and waiting until he was almost alongside her boulder, she deftly slipped her foot out and tripped him. The assassin went over like a sack of potatoes and she jumped on him. Knowing that she only had a few seconds before she lost the advantage of surprise, she decided to cut her losses, grit her teeth against the pain and promptly sat on his head.

Muffled shouts and what she presumed were curses wafted up from the ground, where the warmonger was getting a nice, close look at the sand. Flinching at the jolting pain his thrashing caused, she pulled the rope cincture from his cloak and tied his hands firmly in a sailor’s knot she’d learned from an old boyfriend of her mum’s. 

“There,” she muttered. “Like to see you get out of that one, President Zorjack. The Doctor wasn't far behind you-” (she _hoped_ that was still the case) “-and then we can fob you off on the coppers and get out of here. I’ve had a long day and I want a nap.”

Muffled curses seemed to be the man’s only vocabulary.

“'S a bit rude for a posh president to talk like that, innit? Bit crude. My mum would’ve washed your mouth out with soap.”

His vehement growls made her grin. 

“Have it your way then. You can sit there nice and quiet until the Doctor gets here or you can keep swearin’ your head off.” She paused. “I wouldn’t, personally. Pretty dry out here. If you want a mouth full of sand, though, that’s up to you.” She smirked at his sudden silence.

Her predictions proved accurate and scarcely two minutes later, a tousled brown head popped out of the nearby cave mouth and spotted her immediately.

“Hullo, Rose,” he grinned. “Bit hot for a lie down, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, wincing at the searing pain in her collarbone. “I didn’t exactly choose the spot, and this definitely isn’t my choice of mattress.”

“Hey?”

“This sorry sod.” She rolled her eyes, pointing at the squirming mass beneath her. “Got a foul mouth for a posh government type, if you ask me.”

His eyes grew wide and scrambling to his feet, he dashed over. “You’d be surprised what some of those seemingly posh political types are like, Rose. Remind me to tell you about Malcom Tucker, sometime.” He peered down at Rose’s quarry and grinned. “Effective way to keep him still, if a bit unorthodox.”

“Worked with Mickey when we were kids.” Thankfully, she managed to keep herself from shrugging this time. 

“Brilliant thinking, absolutely.” He grinned. “Why don’t I take him off your, er, _hands_ though? Probably won’t help matters if we accidentally suffocate him. Besides.” The Doctor’s tone hardened. “It’s too easy an out for him. I’ve a much better idea, a much more fitting punishment for his type. He can go home and face the consequences of his actions.”

As Rose gingerly stood, the enraged man spat sand and glared at the Doctor. “Your threats will be repaid in blood, human, and you and the whole of your puny planet will pay for your insolence.”

“Haven’t got a planet,” the Doctor said blithely. “And I’m not human. And I don’t like threats, either, and especially not towards the earth. Now, since you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll just take _this_ -” he deftly slipped the man’s blaster from his pocket “and improve it a bit.”

A whirr of the sonic and the blaster was lying in pieces on the desert floor.

“There, much better! Now.” The Doctor turned the full force of his stare on the cursing man on the ground. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First, we’ll nip back to the races and turn you over to the coppers, as Rose is so fond of saying. And then, we’re all going to take a nice trip home to Poltroon, where you’re going to publicly confess to being an oathbreaker- and _why._ ” The Doctor fixed him with a hard look. “I reckon once Poltroon knows you nearly plunged them into a war with one of their closest allies just so you could lay claim to your half-sister’s share of the plutonium mine, you’ll be lucky to get life in exile on the Rocky Outcrops of Zelpos.”

“And how do you plan to make me confess such a thing?” The prostrate man growled. “I certainly will not.”

“Oh you’d be amazed what you can do with the right incentive.” The Doctor smiled grimly. “You really would. Ah.” He grinned at a silver craft that was speeding in overhead. “Your taxi has arrived, Mr President. I’d get a move on if I were you because those chaps don’t look like they’ll be too bothered about gentle handling.”

As the soldiers descended and secured the spluttering man, Rose could only think of how close to home they were, now that it was over. They’d climb in, pick up Mickey on the way and then head back to the town and Poltroon and then the TARDIS.

And her bed.

It was so hard to stand upright and she was beginning to think that something definitely wasn’t right.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fresh from the shower, Rose stared grimly at her reflection, and the red, inflamed, puffy cut that seemed to be filled with...something.

Definitely not good.

Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, she could barely stand upright and her collarbone…

Well. It was obvious the cut had gotten infected, and she’d need to clean it out, she told herself. That was all. And she needed antibiotics- she knew that. Which meant she had to tell the Doctor.

Unless…

Pulling on her pyjamas, she unlocked her door and snuck out into the corridor, kissing the wall in gratitude when she saw the familiar green door.

The TARDIS flashed her lights repeatedly, and urgently flashed an image of the Doctor in Rose’s mind.

“I can’t,” Rose said tiredly. “You know that. He’ll fix me up and drop me off at mum’s and that’ll be the end of it.”

The TARDIS hummed even more urgently as Rose stepped into the infirmary and closed the door. 

“S not that bad,” Rose sighed. “‘S just an infected cut. I’ve had worse, honestly. I just need to clean it out and...what, take some antibiotics of some kind to fix it, yeah? You can help me do that.”

The TARDIS hummed insistently as Rose quickly found the surgical kit and took a roll of gauze, some more of the antiseptic cream and a scalpel. 

“No, look, please, don’t bring him here!” Rose begged as she hunted through the medicine cabinet. “Please. Look, if you won’t bring the stuff here, I can get most of it myself, I just need you to help me with the antibiotics. I dunno which ones.”

The TARDIS repeated her insistent plea.

“Please! Just show me which one?”

“Rose?”

She jumped, hiding her supplies behind her back. “Doctor! I...I didn’t see you there. Thought you were in the console room.”

“The TARDIS said you were in here.” He frowned. “ I thought you’d gone to bed. Are you sick?”

“No, no,” she said hastily, edging towards the door, silently begging the TARDIS not to give her away. “Just wanted somethin’ for a bit of a headache, is all. You know how it is, all that dry, desert air an’ sand.”

He peered at her. “Looking a bit pale, there.”

“Oh, I’m just tired,” she said lightly. “Didn’t sleep well and ended up havin’ a heck of a day, what with chasin’ and plottin’ and sittin’ on a president.”

“I see.” He gazed at her unblinkingly, and in spite of herself, his reaction, the distance, everything, _hurt._

“Right! Well, I’ve got what I need, so I’ll say g’night Doctor!” She smiled and hastily stepped out of the infirmary and back to her room, closing and locking the door before dashing into the bathroom with her haul.

She could feel the TARDIS’ worry and unhappiness.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gingerly pulling off her top and rubbing the antiseptic onto the site. “But I don’t have a choice.” Taking a deep breath, she carefully made the tiniest incision she could across the wound, and grit her teeth to keep from crying out at the searing pain. She dabbed at the cut, squeezing and pressing until it seemed every last drop of discharge was gone. Then she carefully washed and dried the wound, slathered another layer of antiseptic cream (and oh, how it _burned_ ) and then made her way to bed.

As she collapsed, aching and miserable into her bed, she could only hope it had been enough.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few hours later, an urgent alarm sounded across the TARDIS. 

The Doctor gaped at the ship's intense terror and grief, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since the Time War. Immediately, he flung open the connection he’d dampened to stop the TARDIS inundating his mind with thoughts of Rose... and almost staggered at the howling panic that flooded his mind.

_Rose._

Dropping his spanner, he ran.


	4. Counting Heartbeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor rushes to save Rose's life, but things are seldom as straightforward as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo lovely people! So here (a little later than usual) is the next chapter of this fic. I'm sorry if it's not great but as I mentioned last week, RL has been very unkind and my brain is trying to cope with that. If this is even remotely readable, please thank Rose_Nebula for her wonderful beta and support and listening to me whinge and...yeah the whole lot. 
> 
> **A few trigger warnings for this chapter: there is a fair bit of medical stuff and mentions of medical processes and being near death. We also have a much closer look at DV and abuse as we see a little slice of Rose's time with Jimmy (just a flash, but details may trigger some people). Also not a trigger warning but there is a bit of swearing in this chapter.**  
>    
> And now, on with the show. I hope you don't hate this! Also, please please remember in your comments to be sensitive to other readers who may have been in a similar position to Rose. Let's be sensitive, folks.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

The Doctor pelted towards the corridor, hearts in his mouth, only to find that the TARDIS had moved Rose’s room immediately off the console room. His hearts seized with dread, knowing things were every bit as serious as he feared, and, pushing aside the terrified keening in his mind, he ran for the door and grabbed at the handle, only to find it locked. A moment later, however, he heard the lock click and the door opened of its own volition.

Later, much later, when things were less urgent, he’d wonder when Rose had started locking her door. But not now. Now, he sent a brief wave of gratitude to his ship and dashed inside, gaze zeroing in on her bed.

She wasn’t there.

_“Rose?”_

“What’s goin’ on?” Mickey’s panicked voice came from behind him. “This alarm went off and...what...is this Rose’s room? Where is she? What’s happenin’?”

There was no answer save his own heavy breathing as he darted to the bathroom, where he found her sprawled on the floor, twitching and moaning, utterly unaware of her surroundings.

His hearts stuttered in terror and the voices of his past selves became a roaring crescendo in his head.

“Rose!”

Ignoring Mickey’s terrified shout, he dropped to his knees beside her, frantically checking her pulse. After a few heart-stopping failed attempts, he found it, thank Rassilon, but it was weak, her breathing was slow, and she was burning up.

“No…” she muttered, her voice so weak that he could barely hear it. “Stop.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Mickey’s voice was much closer this time. The boy was wide-eyed with fright. “Doctor?”

The Doctor didn’t bother replying as he tamped down his own terror and gently scooped her into his arms, feeling the TARDIS shift. He assumed she’d moved the infirmary close by and he sent her a wave of gratitude as he made for the bathroom door...only to find that he was now standing in the infirmary.

“What…” Mickey gaped. “How...we was in Rose’s room! In the loo! How did we get in here?”

The Doctor ignored him as he rushed to the nearest bed and gently laid her down. Later, he’d marvel at the fact that the TARDIS had shifted the very room they were in, something she’d never done in all their years together, and from the strain on their bond, he understood why- it had exhausted her. But not now.

Now, he frantically begged the TARDIS for information as soon as she was able while he deftly attached numerous devices to monitor Rose’s vital signs. 

His hearts were in his throat at each successive reading. Perilously low heart-rate, blood pressure and respiration, and body temperature was a dangerous forty-one degrees. No wonder she’d burned to the touch. She clearly had an infection. Worse, it had evolved into septicemia that had triggered sepsis. 

Bile rose in his throat at the thought that she might not survive it as he slipped on a pair of disposable gloves and, brutally taking control of his brain stem to still his shaking hands, found a vein and inserted an IV line to administer fluids and broad spectrum antibiotics. 

Sepsis. 

But how? Why? Where had she contracted an infection? And how in the world had it escalated so quickly and why hadn’t she told him?

Pushing the fear to the back of his mind, he prepared a syringe to extract a blood sample. Gently fastening a tourniquet around her arm, he spent an anxious few minutes trying to find a vein, and, finally successful, he deftly drew several tubes of blood, placing them immediately into the ninety-fourth century multi-analysis auto-pathologist. Moments later, he was frowning at her dangerously low kidney and liver function, while the auto-pathologist continued to run the remaining samples against every known virus in its database.

“Stop, please…” she rasped. 

“Rose!” Mickey shouted tearfully. “It’s ok, we’re here, ‘s ok.”

“Hurts,” she muttered. “Please Jimmy, stop.”

Mickey gasped and the Doctor’s hearts went cold, recalling the little she’d told him about Jimmy Stone and what he’d assumed had been a damaging, painful relationship.

Clearly, it had been much, much worse than he’d expected.

“Stop,” she moaned, rolling her head feebly. “Please stop. Won’t do it again.”

“What’s happenin’ to her?” Mickey pleaded. “Why’s she talkin’ about Stone?”

“Won’t... do…. it... again. Sorry…'m sorry ” She mumbled, an endless breath between each word. 

“Rose!” the boy shouted. “It’s me, Mickey! Jimmy’s not here!” 

The impact of Mickey’s shout was immediate. Rose tried to curl in on herself, barely managing to move a limb, weeping. “Sorry,” she whispered. “’M sorry.”

The Doctor cast a sharp look at Mickey. “Stop shouting you idiot! She’s hallucinating with fever and you’re upsetting her,” he reproved in a biting whisper, and then turned back to Rose. “Rose,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright, you’re alright. I’m the Doctor, I'm going to help you.”

“No...doctors!” She moaned, rolling her head. “Please, no...doctors!” another interminable pause between breaths. “‘M fine…. Fell,” she mumbled.

Mickey gasped with shock and the Doctor closed his eyes momentarily at this confirmation of exactly what her relationship with Jimmy Stone had entailed. 

She’d been abused.

_Rose._

His light in the darkness. 

Exhaling, he fought the voice of his Ninth self into submission as the younger him snarled impotent threats against the scum who’d hurt her, and against his current incarnation for abandoning her, for closing himself off and pushing her away, for hurting her so she’d felt she couldn't come to him.

He exhaled and pushed the burning guilt to one side, snapping at his Ninth self all the while. No matter what, Rose could have come to him if she’d been sick. She _should_ have come to him. What had she been thinking, keeping something so dangerous to herself?

Finally, the TARDIS had recovered enough to send him a brief, flickering image- a faint flash of something on Rose’s collarbone. He took a deep breath and with a cold, clinical detachment, pulled at the collar of Rose’s sleep shirt, gritting his teeth against her whimpers only to growl at the sight of a clearly infected wound, which appeared to have recently been opened.

How had this happened? _When_ had it happened? And why hadn’t she come to him immediately? He seethed as he examined the wound and cleaned it. He’d seen her a few hours ago, _here_ in the infirmary, where she’d clearly gone looking for supplies to clean the wound herself. Why hadn’t she told him then? He’d _asked_ her! Examining the incision site for infected tissues, he grimaced. Obviously, she’d realised that it was dangerously infected. She’d have had symptoms by then too- headaches, nausea, dizziness _something_. Why hadn’t she asked for help? Why hadn’t she come to him?

 _No time for that now_ , he told himself as he dressed it. Worrying and wondering was for later, when Rose was safe; now was the time for clinical detachment, cool thinking, and efficiency.

Rose’s life depended on it.

“Doctor?” Mickey’s terrified voice intruded again. “What’s wrong with her?” He gulped. “What is that?”

He didn’t reply, turning to tap at the blood analysis monitor. 

“Doctor!”

It had to have been something she’d been exposed to in the last day or two. Perhaps it was something she’d caught on Jumanji? Or on Mars? Perhaps she’d been bitten by sand mites and the wound had gotten infected. But no, he caught himself, it was impossible for the wound to turn septic in the few hours they’d been back. Septicemia took at least forty-eight hours from the initial infection to set in. Something earlier then? France, perhaps? The space station? Or even earlier? Perhaps the school during their adventure with the Kirllitane?

_“Doctor!”_

He jumped at the hand that landed on his shoulder. “Not now,” he snapped impatiently, focused intently on the screen as Rose moaned and muttered piteously in the background. “I need to focus.”

“What the hell is happening with Rose?”

“She’s sick,” the Doctor growled. 

“I can see that! I mean, what _is_ it?”

“I don’t know yet. Perhaps if you'd stop interrupting me every five minutes I might have time to find out!” _Prion based infection?_ he wondered and then dismissed the idea as unlikely. 

“What’s that do?” The boy pointed at the auto-pathologist.

“Tests her blood for infection,” the Doctor muttered, crossing parasitic infections off his list. She wasn’t showing any signs of parasitic infestation and none of the usual toxins seemed to be in her blood. No, that cut had to have been infected by a bacterium. 

“She has an infection?” 

_“Obviously,_ she has a fever!” he growled, slipping on his glasses.

“Well, I dunno, do i?” Mickey snapped. “‘M not a doctor!” He frowned. “Are _you_ even a proper doctor?”

“Course I am, several times over.” he said impatiently, scrolling through various types of commonly found bacteria on Jumanji.

“What kind of infection does she have?”

“I don’t _know!”_ he snapped, his fear leaving him on edge. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Now shut up or get out!”

Rose cowered and feebly tried to curl further in on herself, mumbling about cows and dreams and diets and _sorry_.

“I’m not goin’!” Mickey scowled and sat on the next bed. “Rose is...I’m not leavin’ her her alone.”

“You won’t be,” he muttered, noticing that the test for rare skin viruses had also turned up negative. 

“You may be a doctor an’ all but ‘s not the same as a friend.”

The Doctor turned to glare at him, resenting the implication that he wasn’t a... _friend_ . “The longer I take to work out what it is, the more danger Roes is in. I need to think, Mickey Smith, so if you want to stay in here, shut it and _don’t_ upset Rose!”

The boy huffed and fell silent. Thankfully, the silence calmed Rose a little- she mumbled and moaned but less than before and the lack of shouting seemed to calm her panic a bit, allowing him to return to his ruminations.

Bioareosol? It couldn't have been, because neither he nor Mickey had been affected. Or had they?

He turned on Mickey so suddenly the boy squeaked. “Do you feel sick?” 

“Sick?”

“Ill, unwell!” he snapped. “Have you had any symptoms? Fever? Chills? Nausea? Sniffles? Spots? Diarrhea?”

“Nnn-nno... nothin’.”

“Are you sure?

“Yeah, I’m sure…” Mickey swallowed. “What’s ‘at mean?”

“It means that it can’t have been something you were both exposed to, which rules out bioaerosols.” The Doctor tugged at his hair. “Did Rose fall over on Jumani?”

“No…” Mickey said slowly. “She didn’t fall.”

“Cut herself? On a...tree? A stick? Metal? Anything?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He exhaled in frustration. It was unlikely to have happened that day, then- and realistically, the time window wasn’t quite right as it was still rather soon. Besides which, there was very little that could have hurt her on Jumanji. And they’d both been exposed to it.

Much as he was loath to do so, he was going to have to go further back.

To the space station. And France.

He swallowed back guilt at how he’d avoided her that day, how little he’d even looked at her, reminding himself that he’d had good reason to distance himself and the proof was lying in a hospital bed next to him.

He ignored the foul epithet his Ninth self snarled at him for that thought.

“What about...a few days ago? When you first came with us?”

Mickey’s eyes darkened. “The space station, you mean?”

He set his teeth. “Yes. Did anything happen there?”

“You mean apart from being tied up by clockwork droids and nearly becoming spare parts?” Mickey glared. 

“Mickey,” he growled, forcing himself not to flinch at Rose’s moan of fear, and ignoring the overpowering voice of his Ninth incarnation who was inventing insults he’d never heard. “I don’t have time for this. I need to know what it was and I need you to think! Did Rose fall? Hurt herself? Cut herself on something?”

Mickey exhaled, turning to look at Rose, twitching feebly in the bed, face blotchy and pale, her slow breathing painful to watch. “I...I...don’t think so. We were together the whole time and she didn’t fall or hurt herself, neither. Not even when you were gone. The only time it could have happened was when-”

“When she was tied to the table,” the Doctor finished, the words ash in his mouth as he saw Rose all too clearly, pale and confused rising from the table, slipping past the frozen blades of the clockwork droids. “They were…”

“They were gonna cut her head off,” Mickey finished bluntly, glaring at him. “While you were partyin’ in Paris with your posh tart.”

The Doctor didn’t say anything. What could he say? It was the truth, not that he’d ever admit it and certainly not to Mickey the Idiot.

“That must’ve been it.” Mickey swallowed. “They really was gonna cut her head off, until you came.”

“Must have been it,” the Doctor echoed, grey-faced as his Ninth incarnation inundated him with image after image of Rose scratching at her collarbone during their time on Jumanji, how slow and tired she’d been today, how stiffly she’d moved. 

It also meant that that any number of infections could be afflicting Rose. If those blades had been chopping crew members one by one, and there were remains of human organs and flesh about the place, Rose and Mickey had been exposed to potentially any number of fifty-first century bacteria. He busied himself preparing a Petri dish to grow the culture, breathing heavily.

It had happened on the space station. And he hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t cared. Hadn't thought to check her over. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned to the remaining vial and carefully extracted a small sample and placed it into the petri dish, which he set in the hyper-incubator. It would take at least a few hours for the culture to grow and once it did and he could identify exactly what it was, he’d be able to adjust her antibiotics if needs be.

Stripping off the gloves, he turned to wash his hands.

“Is that it?” Mickey demanded. “S that all you’re gonna do?”

The Doctor turned and glared, the feeling of impotence driving the rage further. “I can’t do more than I already am until I know what kind of bacteria is causing this.” He took a deep breath. “Go to bed, Mickey. You can’t do anything for her now.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere!” Mickey squawked. “I’m not leaving.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Fine, as you like. But stay out of my way and don’t disturb Rose.” He glared. “If you get in the way or bother her in any way, you’re out.”

“I won’t,” Mickey said sulkily. “Promise.”

“See that you don’t.”

Turning back to her vitals, the Doctor frowned to see that her heart rate was still dangerously low at thirty-nine at rest, her face was still pale and splotchy, almost blue looking, and her breathing slow and laboured. 

In spite of his resolution to maintain a cool professional demeanour, he nervously dragged his hands through his hair, checking the progress of the antibiotics, and despite knowing it was too early, willing her vital signs to show some kind of improvement.

“So now we just wait?”

“Now we wait,” he said quietly. 

“What…” Mickey swallowed. “What’s happening to her?”

The Doctor inhaled and forced himself to be clinical. “She has an infection,” he said stoically.

“Infection? From the...from the robots?”

“Most likely. The blades have obviously been used to... cut... more than one crew member, and were never cleaned.” 

“So what does she have?” Mickey was wide-eyed.

“I don’t know yet. The human body is a plethora of possibilities, and all it takes for one person to have a staphylococcus infection. Once I know what it is, I can better counter it with the antibiotics.”

“So, what is this, like a superbug?”

“Could be. Too early to say.” He exhaled. “Once I have the culture results I’ll know.”

“And then you can fix it, right?” The boy sounded desperate.

“I hope so.” He wanted, more than anything, to offer the reassurance the boy sought, but he couldn’t. 

“Is she…” Mickey gulped. “Why is she breathing so slow? Is she going to die?”

“I...her body has gone into sepsis.” He forced his voice to be flat. “The infection has spread into her bloodstream and it’s taking over her body.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s spread to her organs. If the right antibiotics are administered in time, they’ll counter the infection before they cause too much damage.”

“And if they don’t?” Mickey’s voice shook. “If the ones you gave her don’t work?”

“She has a better chance of success than most,” was all he said, refusing to consider the alternative.

“But if they don’t?”

He didn’t reply.

He had no idea how long they sat there (and wasn’t that ridiculous for a Time Lord?), Mickey staring at Rose in her bed and the Doctor tapping at the screen, frantically looking through databases. For once, he’d entirely lost track of time. Suddenly, however, the heart monitor alarm went off, the sound horribly loud in the silent infirmary, and it struck him that Rose had stopped moaning. She’d fallen entirely silent.

And the TARDIS was screaming.

“What? What is it?” Mickey demanded, jumping off the bed. “Rose, can you hear me? Rose!”

Ignoring him, the Doctor flew out of his chair, grasping frantically at the heart monitor and noting that Rose’s heart rate had dropped to below twenty at rest, her respiratory rate was low and her blood pressure was sixty over thirty.

She was going into septic shock.

His hearts momentarily stopped, his respiratory bypass kicking without his notice as every voice in his mind shouted at him.

_Rose was dying._

“Doctor!” Mickey near tears. “She’s not answerin’! What do we do?”

“Time,” he said, forcing the words out of his throat, both hearts aching with a ferocity he didn’t know he had. “We need time.”

“We don’t have time!” Mickey shouted. “You have to do something _now.”_

He inhaled, because Mickey was right. They didn’t have enough time.

But they _could_ have time.

He’d once told Rose that there was no such thing as time on the TARDIS, but that wasn’t entirely true. While the TARDIS and the vortex existed outside the time-space continuum, the TARDIS was her own dimension, and change and progression still happened within her. Time, as he'd been taught, was nothing but a measure of change.

And he was a Time Lord.

And so he set out to do what he’d only done once since the end of the Time War; what he’d done at the end of the world to save a human shopgirl whom he’d promised the universe, and would sacrifice the universe to save.

He _had_ sacrificed the universe to save her, and she’d come right back to save _him_.

Pushing aside his guilt and dread, he closed his eyes. Forcing himself to take a deep breath and swallow the burning bile in his mouth, he recalled his academy training and carefully pushed his emotions into the steel box his instructors had so loved.

 _“Cool reason will inevitably lead to a better outcome than fickle emotion_ ,” Master Polipoth had said. “ _You are a lord of time- time is yours to command. Control yourself, Theta and command it!”_

And so he did. He attuned himself to the nuance of each and every second, each and every change... and slowed them.

He opened his eyes to see Mickey making micro-movements. At this speed, it could take hours, _days_ , for Mickey to complete a single movement, let alone speak. It would take hours for the next deterioration to affect Rose. 

He had time, he _was_ time, and carefully, _coolly,_ he treated his patient. He administered insulin for blood sugar and vasopressors to increase blood pressure, added corticosteroids and bypassing anaesthesia (she was too weak to put under), ventilated her, marvelling at his detached manner as he steadily placed the tube down her throat. Carefully, he checked the settings and ensured respiration would occur at the optimal rate before carefully releasing time to flow normally once more.

“You need to-” Mickey stopped mid-shout, gaping. “When did you get all that set up?”

The Doctor didn’t take his eyes off Rose, watching as she breathed with the aid of the ventilator, her pulse and respiratory rate slowly responding to the treatments he’d admintered.

_In, out…._

“Doctor! What did you do?”

The Doctor cut away briefly from his study of Rose. “I treated her.”

_In, out..._

“But….but...how?” Mickey was white. “How’d you get all that done without me seein’ you? You wouldn’t have had _time!”_

“I’m a _Time Lord_ , Mickey,” he said lowly, not taking his eyes off Rose. 

Mickey gulped, evidently frightened at the power he hadn’t considered. “So...so... she’s ok?”

“She’s stable, for now,” was all he’d allow himself to say. It amazed him that even wrapped in the protection of meditative detachment, Rose had the power to infiltrate his defenses. Even now, his every thought was bent on her. If she didn’t survive…

No. He refused to countenance that possibility. Rose Tyler would _live._ Her light was too brilliant, too important to be snuffed out.

And now, faced with that very possibility, he didn’t know if he could live in the dark anymore, in a world where Rose Tyler was not.

“She...is she...will she…” Mickey trailed off, evidently unable to say it.

“I don’t know yet.” 

“Why not? Mickey demanded, fists clenched. “You fixed her didn’t you?”

He inhaled deeply, ignoring the rending of his own hearts. “I tried to. But septic shock is...it’s very dangerous. Many people don’t...I think...I _hope_ I caught it before any permanent damage was done, but she could still…” His detachment slipped, and his voice cracked on the last word, unable to face it.

“Don’t!” Mickey spat. 

“What?” The vehemence of the boy’s reaction pulled him from his numbness.

“I said,” Mickey scowled. _“Don’t_ act like it matters to you _._ Like _she_ matters _._ Cause we both know she doesn't- not to you.”

He stared at him. The boy was obviously grieving and out of his mind. He tried to be patient.”Of course she matters! Rose is… a friend.”

“Bull!” Mickey spat, jumping to his feet. “You don’t give a damn about her and it makes me _sick_ to see you pretend!”

 _“Mickey,”_ he growled, unable to help the anger bleeding through.

“What’s the matter? Truth hurts?” Mickey prowled closer. “You don’t give a rat’s arse what happens to her so don’t sit there acting like you do.”

“Stop talking,” he snarled. “Stop it _right_ now.”

“What? Can’t handle the truth about why Rose is lyin’ there? Mickey shouted. “You don’t care about her and now she’s dying!”

“Don’t you dare,” the Doctor warned through clenched teeth, uncertain how much longer he could hold onto his temper. “Don’t you _dare.”_

“What, gonna chuck me out into space? Gonna leave me behind somewhere like you left Rose?”

“I _didn’t_ leave Rose!” he snapped. “She’s right there!”

“Yeah she’s lyin’ there, an’ maybe she won’t be there for very long, maybe she’ll never be there again because you _left_ her!” Mickey shouted. “You didn’t want her anymore an’ you dumped her on a rusty space station and left her and now she might… she might _die!”_

“She should have come to me!” the Doctor snapped, his temper fraying at last. “She should have come to me and I’d have treated her and this all could have been avoided.”

“Yeah, she should have!” Mickey shouted. “She should have come to you, or asked to go to a proper doctor. Even if she thought you never cared about her, she should have. But she didn’t and I don’t know why ‘cause she was _never_ stupid. But know what I do know? She don’t trust you. I don’t know if it was because you abandoned us on that space station or if it was somethin' else you did but she don’t trust you anymore.” He shook his head. “She knows you’re _different_ because of how you treat her. She thinks that whatever you had for her died with the last you. And you know what? I can see how she might. Grumpy sod that he was, I knew he loved Rose. You could see it in how he looked at her. How he put her first. But you? You’re just ready to dump her off like you did that Sarah-Jane woman. You _did_ dump her off. You left us to die and ran after somethin’ better.” Mickey scowled. “You didn’t give a flying fuck when you found those clockwork robots about to cut her head off. You never bothered making sure we was alright. And now? Now she’s dyin’.” Mickey swallowed a sob. “And it’s cause of you.”

The Doctor felt as though he’d been struck.

And lashed out.

“Get. Out,” he growled between his teeth. 

“Fuck off,” Mickey snapped back. “I’m not leavin’ her here with _you.”_

The Doctor seized him by the collar and dragged him protesting to the door, heaving him outside before slamming and locking the door, his breath coming in fast pants.

It wasn’t true...was it? Of course it wasn’t. He’d put a judicious bit of distance between the two of them but he’d never treated her like she didn’t matter...had he? Of course not. He’d done what needed to be done. He’d saved history, and Rose had understood.

Hadn’t she?

Only, if she had, then why had she told Mickey only the day before that he wasn’t the same man? But even then, she’d said they were friends, that they weren’t anything _more_ than friends, but they _were_ friends, even if she now thought that he was no longer his past self.

So why, _why_ hadn’t she come to him for help? Why hadn’t she asked him to treat her?

Perhaps she didn’t trust him. But surely she had to have known that no matter what, he’d have provided medical aid! For Rassilon’s sake, he’d done as much for people who’d tried to kill them! Surely she knew he’d do it for her without a second thought.

So _why?_

He looked at her pale face and swallowed. Any answers could well be a long time coming. 

Or perhaps they wouldn't come at all.

++++++++++++++++++++++

_The TARDIS infirmary, the next day_

A subtle beeping interrupted the Doctor’s intense concentration and he immediately looked to Rose. Seeing no immediate danger, he checked the IV and changed the bag ,adding more fluids. He was pleased to see that her vital signs had stabilised and her respiratory rate was normal. So much so that he’d felt comfortable switching off the ventilator for the last two hours, with no adverse effects. He’d even removed the ventilator and found Mickey outside the infirmary and gruffly given him an update before sending him off to bed.

The boy had glared, sheepishly, and done just that.

Good. It seemed he was regretting his ill-timed outburst then.

However, what he hadn’t told Mickey was that he was worried.

Because Rose wouldn’t wake up.

He hadn’t even administered anesthesia while ventilating her because she’d been far too weak. He’d intended on doing so once she’d stabilized if she needed the ventilation but it appeared that it was no longer necessary. And she hadn't woken once through any of it. Not during ventilation, nor after, not during the insertion of the eighty-first century self-inserting catheter replacement unit, nor during the time he’d identified the virulent staph bacteria and ranted and shouted loudly enough to wake the dead.

(He cringed internally at the ill-advised choice of words).

The last he’d seen of her was during her hallucinations just before she’d gone into shock.

And she’d slept since.

Why hadn’t she woken?

Had she suffered some form of brain damage? Had he missed something? According to her vital signs, she should have been conscious. Weak, but conscious. Able to speak and respond. Able to tell him what had happened, why she’d hidden the wound from him, why she’d put herself in danger and he’d nearly lost her….

Forcing his mind back to the matter at hand, he forced himself to think. The human mind often took refuge inside itself during a crisis. Could it be that Rose was trapped in a coma of some kind? Locked-in Syndrome?

Could it be that she was afraid to resurface?

_Why don’t you go and sodding **look** instead of speculating, you daft apeth? _

He blinked. His Ninth incarnation was evidently in fine form today.

He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t violate her mind like that. Not without her permission.

He could almost hear his younger self roll his eyes.

_You’re not violating anything, you stupid sod. Doctrine of emergency, same way you treated her without her permission! Besides, you’re going to assess her mental state as part of her diagnosis, same as they would in any fiftieth century hospital. Not as if you'll be batterin’ down her mental shields and rampaging through her mind!_

His Ninth self had a point. Still, it was risky because Rose might well hate him on awakening. She tended to be quite sensitive about telepathy.

_She doesn’t trust you either way! If you don’t do it, she might never wake up._

Much as he hated it, the other him was right. He had to look.

_Took you long enough. That hair product of yours interfere with your thinkin’?_

He didn’t deign to respond and taking a deep breath, carefully sat on the edge of Rose’s bed. Carefully taking her hand in his, he sought out her mind.

And gasped.

Opening his eyes, he instinctively ducked the heavy fist that swung at him, only to face an angry scowl.

_“Told you not to burn my dinner, woman! God, you’re worthless!”_

He growled and brushed the memory away before being caught in another. 

_“Don’t fuckin’ cry, you you stupid bitch! ‘S your own fault! I told you you wasn’t goin’ and you disobeyed me.”_

_“I just wanted to see mum,” Rose sobbed. “You said I could!”_

_“Shut up! You’re fuckin’ mental- you think I can’t remember what I said yesterday?”_

The Doctor growled again and forced the memory away, before the next came.

_“Told you not to wear that, you daft bint! You’re too fat for it!”_

_“But you bought it for me Jimmy,” Rose protested._

_“So you could see what you_ **_should_ ** _look like! You’ll never fit into it- look like a bloomon’ heifer! Take it off, you’re a fuckin’ embarrassment!”_

Another fist came at him and he ducked, even knowing it was no more than a memory. 

_“How fuckin’ dare you apply for that job when I told you not to? Well?”_

_“It looked like a good job at the travel agency,” Rose sighed. “It would give us more money and...and...it looked interestin’.”_

_“Interestin’?” the sallow-eyed drunk scoffed. “‘Wantin’ to shag those rich toffs on the side are you?”_

_“No!” she cried. “I wouldn’t!”_

_“Course it was, you stupid bint. Why else would they offer the job to a dumb bitch like you?”_

_“They said they could teach me,” she protested. “They said I could learn.”_

_“Teach you what? How to let posh fuckers get a leg over? You’re good at that, don’t need any lessons. You stay here and spread ‘em for me like you’re fuckin’ supposed to. They only want you for the office tart and don’t you forget it.” He laughed. “It’s too rich- dumb bitch like you thinkin’ they’d actually want you? What for? You’re thick as shit, can’t even keep my dinner from burnin’. The only thing you’re good for is what I keep you for and don’t you forget it.”_

_He’d fixed her with a glare._

_“You pull out of that job or I’ll do it for you. An’ if I have to do that, we both know what that means, don’t we?”_

_Rose sighed and nodded._

_“That’s what I thought. Don’t go fukin’ gettin’ above yourself again.”_

And so it went on. He was caught in a web of never-ending memories of horror, of Rose being told time and again how stupid and worthless and fat she was.

_“Loser.”_

_“Fat bitch.”_

_“Stupid!”_

_“Fuckin’ worthless.”_

_“Nobody'd notice if you died.”_

_“Only put up with you cause I felt sorry for you.”_

_“You’re nothing.”_

_“You know I don’t like hurtin’ you Rose. I only do it when you make me. If you do what you’re supposed to, I won’t have to. It makes me feel bad. You don’t want to make me feel bad, do you?”_

_“It’s your fault I went lookin’ somewhere else! If you were better I wouldn't have to!”_

And then came a shock that made him want to howl.

_“Wild child bought for sixpence.”_

_He didn’t notice that she'd been gone for hours._

_“You wither and die.”_

_“Curse of the Time Lords.”_

_“Not to you!”_

_Rise tied to a table about to be sawn into pieces._

_“You sound like your mother!”_

_“One of the most accomplished women who ever lived.”_

_“That Doctor, ‘ey?”_

_“Madame de Pompadour. Sarah-Jane Smith. Cleopatra.”_

_They were the Doctor and Rose, they were always alright…_

_Rose staring after him as he abandoned her forever._

_He’d chosen to walk the slow path with Reinette, had thought she was worth it._

_He didn’t want her anymore._

_What if he made her leave?_

_“Whatever my Doctor thought or felt, Mickey, this one doesn’t.”_

With a growl, the Doctor forced his way through the horrific tangle and arrived, at last on the periphery of her mind, panting.

And stared.

“What in the bloody hell have you done?”

Eyes wide, he turned to face someone who should absolutely _not_ have been there.

“You!”

“Me.” The face of his Ninth self was thunderous, eyes burning blue fire. “What have you done ?”

“How are you here?”

“”That all you care about?” His Ninth self sounded disgusted, and folded his arms, leather jacket creaking. 

“I...you split off as soon as I came into her mind," he guessed. "You can’t take form outside the mind.”

“Ten points to the daft sod in the sandshoes.” Younger him prowled closer and in spite of himself, the Doctor felt slightly afraid at the black look on his younger self’s face. “Now look out there and tell me what in the bloody hell you’ve done!”

The Doctor swallowed and turned back to stare at Rose’s mind. When he’d entered her mind on the Game Station it had been a vibrant forest, full of light and life.

Now was pitch black, and silent. Not even the trees moved.

It was deathly still.

There was nothing.


	5. Where Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's mind is not at all what is should be. Where is she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello shiny people! Here is the next chapter, a few hours later than I'd have liked, but real life has unfortunately not seen fit to be kind and things are still mental. Hopefully the chapter will flow properly, but if it isn't, up to stratch apologies up front. Things have not been easy at all I'm afraid and I'm finding it hard to connect properly with things atm.  
> As always, thanks to Rose_Nebula for the amazing beta and support and listening to me complain about how much I hated this chapter and life in general- you are most fabulous <3 <3 <3  
> NB: this chapter is all telepathy and takes place in Rose's mind. Normally I'd write that in Italics, but as it's an entire chapter, I've decided not to do that, except for a very specific non-verbal speech near the end.
> 
>  **Trigger warning: discussion of self-loathing, lack of care for one's self, and a very shallow look at the immediate effects of trauma. We'll delve more into that next chapter.** As always, as this is a sensitive topic for a lot of folks, so please be mindful of your comments and remember there are many readers on here who have been or are in similar situations. <3
> 
> Thanks lovely people, and hopefully you enjoy!

“I...what?” 

“You heard me!” His Ninth incarnation’s gaze burned into him. “What. Have. You. _Done?”_

The Doctor stared dumbly into the darkness, so struck with horror that he couldn’t breathe. “I...don’t...I…” He trailed off, before turning to look at the other him. “You think _I_ did this? You think I’d erase Rose’s mind?”

“Who said anythin’ about erasin?” 

“Are you blind? Look at it!” He gestured wildly, feeling his body begin to tremble back in the infirmary. “There’s nothing there! She’s...she’s _gone!”_

“Are you actually as stupid as you look?” The Northern Doctor shook his head in disgust. 

The Doctor glared at his younger self. “What?”

“Honestly, is that ridiculous hair interferin’ with your higher brain function? She’s not gone.” 

“What are you-”

“Shut up,” his Ninth self interrupted. “Listen.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes, shut your gob for a half a mo’ and _listen_ ,” was the growled reply.

“I don’t need to close my eyes,” the Doctor said petulantly, “There are no visual stimuli to distract our brain function in here- we’re mental _avatars.”_

The other man prowled closer. “Listen, mate, you are _this_ close to coppin’ one right in the cerebral cortex, and the only thing that’s stopping me is that it might pull us out of Rose’s mind.” He scowled. “So do as I say and close. Your. Eyes.”

After a little grumbling, the Doctor did. 

“Now, _listen.”_

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stilled his mind, sharpening his telepathic senses and focusing on his mental surrounding. He was aware of his other self beside him, of course, and he could feel the TARDIS, and Mickey projecting away down the corridor, but nothing of Rose. 

Suddenly however, there was a slight shift.

He froze, and listened even more intently, but there was nothing. He sharpened his sense again and strained, blocking everything from his mind. 

And after what seemed an eternity of silence, there was another slight shift.

It wasn’t much, not even a whisper, but it was enough for him to recognise. He’d know that mind anywhere.

_Rose._

He opened his eyes and turned to face himself, aghast. “She’s here.”

His Northern self nodded tersely.

“She’s here...she’s... _hiding…_ ” he gaped. “She did all this, she built it all! The darkness, the silence…” He was utterly baffled. ”She’s a twenty-first century human! She has no telepathic abilities or training to speak of! How did she do this?”

“She wanted to hide,” the other man snarled.

“Yes but _how_?” The current Doctor demanded. “How can she? She has no control over her mindscape- not to this extent.”

“She’s _traumatised_ , you daft bonehead! You know what the human mind is capable of when faced with trauma- it’ll do whatever it needs to to protect itself,” The Ninth him scowled. “Which brings me to the original point- _what have you done?”_

“Me?” the Tenth Doctor squawked. “You think _I_ did this?”

“You saw those memories on the way in. Right on the surface, too.” His Ninth incarantion’s blue eyes burned with an intensity the present him had almost forgotten he had and tried desperately to pretend didn’t exist. “You saw what she said about you. About us.” The man looked devastated. “She’s lumped us in with that viper.”

The current Doctor scowled and said nothing.

“So I’m asking again- what have you _done?_ ”

“You know everything, if you’ve been watching, and I know you have.” He glared, refusing to admit more than that aloud. He resented the fact that the worries about disparate lifespans and loneliness and the fear with which he’d bound and buried his guilt at hurting Rose had started to fray at the edges. “You’ve not given me a moment's peace since you regenerated.” 

“Oh, I saw.” The other man’s eyes burned with the rage he’d hoped had died with his last incarnation, but he knew all too well was buried deeply in himself. Because the other _was_ him. The Northern, war-torn Doctor was a part of _this_ him, and would be in every him. And because he knew himself, he knew that the other man wasn’t asking because he wanted an answer. He knew exactly how this self had failed, how he’d betrayed Rose. He was asking because he wanted his current incarnation to _face_ it, and admit what he’d done.

Only, he wasn’t sure that he had the strength to do it. He was old and tired, so _very_ old and tired, with years of pain and regrets and death behind him. He didn’t have the strength to face it all- wasn’t that what had gotten him into this mess to begin with? 

“You were happy enough to lump Rose with the lot,” the Northern Doctor growled, showing that in spite of their differences, he knew exactly what his current incarnation was thinking. “Nine hundred years of pain and death and destruction piled onto the shoulders of a twenty year old human.” He glared. “Because you’re a coward of the worst kind.”

The words truck their mark and he snapped right back. “A title you wore proudly enough.” 

“Don’t even try it.” His younger self looked at him scathingly, as though he were little more than a cockroach. “Too afraid to kill a space station full of people? Coward every time, and proud of it. But crushing _Rose_ , betraying the one person who cares about _us_ , who loves…” The other man trailed off, closing his eyes briefly. “ _Loves us_ , and just to hide from our own feelings? Because we’re scared? No, you can’t lump that rubbish on me- that’s all _you.”_

“I didn’t betray her!” The current Doctor snapped, seizing on the only part of that whole diatribe he could respond to. “I never did. I made her no promises, _we_ made her no promises…” He trailed off, remembering his words outside a cafe while the Krillitane circled above.

 _Not to you_.

He swallowed.

“So at least we have _some_ honesty left, do we?” Northern him glared.

“I came back. I didn’t leave her there.”

“Nothin’ more than dumb luck, and you know it. You left her there to rot, left them _both_ there to rot.”

“You’ve never given a tinker’s curse about Mickey!” The current Doctor snapped. 

“An’ you think that means I’d have left him to die on a fifty-first century rust-bucket?” The other man snarled. “Since when have we been so contemptuous of human life? When did we start sacrificing lives in favour of a dramatic entrance?” He shook his head. “Sounds more like Koschei.”

“Don’t you dare,” the current Doctor seethed.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” His Ninth incarnation waved at the landscape. “And here’s the proof. She’s hiding from us because you decided playing white knight to that wastrel and safe-guarding your oh-so-precious feelings were more important than her life!”

He swallowed, hearts heavy and unable to bear the bile of the words as they slipped out. “She’s not hiding from _us,”_ he said, the words burning his throat. “She’s hiding from me.”

“Only sensible thing you’ve said in months.” Far from looking smug, the other man looked grieved, as well he might. Rose was hiding from them, and for the man who’d lived and died for her, the man torn by the ravages of the Time War who’d clung to her as his light in the darkness, it was unbearable.

He should know. He _was_ him.

“Still doesn’t explain how she found the mindpower to hide so completely,” he said at last, changing the subject. “Trauma would have made some rudimentary changes, obvious ones. This...this is sophisticated. Almost skilled, if somewhat basic. So how?”

His Ninth incarnation stared. “Are you really that _stupid?”_

“What?” he demanded, sorely tried by the guilt he barely kept at bay and worry for Rose. And irritation at his younger self. “As if you know! If you knew, I’d know.”

“You _do_ know,” the other man spoke through clenched teeth. “You know exactly why and how and your runnin’ away from it is what caused this mess in the first place. You refused to even think about it, and you’ve put Rose in danger for it!”

His own anger burning, he turned to face his younger self. “I don’t have time to deal with your temper right now. I have to find Rose.”

The other man barked a laugh. “Oh you do, do you? And how d’you propose to do that? In _this,_ no less, when it’s bloomin’ obvious she doesn’t want you to? You’d have to strip away the mindscape and drag her out. Would you violate her mind like that?”

“I...I won’t have to. She’ll see me, eventually, she’ll come out, and I can take her back.” He forced himself to sound certain, knowing the other man didn’t believe a word of it.

“And if she doesn’t?” the other man demanded. “What then?”

The current Doctor swallowed his revulsion at the idea of forcing her. Coming into her mind when she was ill and in danger was one thing, but dismantling her mindscape, forcing her out... necessary or not, it would be the worst sort of violation and the thought made him ill. He _could_ do it- sudden and inexplicable abilities or no, she was no match for a fully trained Time Lord, even if he hadn’t practiced for centuries- but he didn’t want to, couldn’t bear the thought of it.

He wouldn’t have to, he was sure of it. She couldn’t ignore him forever, could she? She’d come out at some point.

“What…” he cleared his throat. “What do you suggest then? Since you’re so full of ideas.”

His Ninth self rolled his eyes as he made to step to the darkness. “Didn’t know I’d lose a few dozen IQ points in the regeneration process. Honestly, thick as a stump!”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” the current Doctor demanded, storming after him into the pitch black. “You’ve just said we can’t force her.”

“Don’t intend to force her, me.” The other man turned, gaze burning. “Rose is buried somewhere in all that, an’ I’m goin out there and going to find her. If she lets me.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“You’d better hope she does.” The eyes burned blue fire. “Or you’d best start brushing up on transference.”

“What do you- are you out of our mind _?_ ” the Tenth Doctor shouted, exasperated. “You can’t exist outside of my mind.”

The other man held his gaze. “Or _hers.”_

The current Doctor’s jaw dropped. “Are you mad? You expect me to leave you in here, to transfer your entire incarnation here? Her mind couldn’t handle it! And even if it could, she’d die! And so would you.” He swallowed. “And if it worked, I’d lose all memory of her, all knowledge of her and that whole incarnation. All of _you. ”_

The disgust on the other man’s face solidified his certainty of his counterpart’s resolve. “Not much of a loss for you then, is it? Seein’ as how you regret everything we are, everything we had with her. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if you sodded off back to the outside and left us both in here.” 

And with that final, devastating remark, he stormed off.

The Tenth Doctor stared after his former self, heavy-hearted and shocked. Drawing deep on his concentration and binding his emotions as tightly as he could, he stepped into the darkness, unable to face the thought that he might have broken Rose’s trust in him, and that even his earlier self believed that his love for her had died with him.

It simply wasn't possible.

His actions had been... _imprudent_ , certainly, and they’d clearly upset Rose. He could even understand how a human might find it difficult to appreciate his actions, to take the longer view in view of her own limited lifespan. But how could she think him no better than that abusive creature who’d hurt her, who had beaten and broken her and treated her as so much nothing? He’d give his life for her, had done so once before, though she didn’t know it. She had no memory of the Gamestation or his nonverbal declaration of love and devotion, and at the time he’d been relieved for the chance to put a little distance between them.

However, now...

He exhaled. His last incarnation was obviously wrong. It was rare, but there it was. Past him was wrong. She couldn’t think that of him. She _didn’t._ Not really. She was just hurt and confused and weary from her recent brush with death. That had to be it. She might snap or rage at him, and maybe (although he refused to dwell on it) she’d be right to do so, but eventually she’d come out of hiding when he called. Of course she would. 

Wouldn’t she?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Later, much later, after hours of increasingly desperate projection and calling, he faced with dread the possibility that she would not.

She knew he was here. 

And she didn’t want to speak with him.

And loathe as he was to admit it, it was entirely up to his Ninth incarnation now- the man who had shunned telepathy for almost the entirety of his time as the Doctor, who had been unable to face the deafening silence in his mind. That gruff, brusque Northern man was the only one of him she trusted, now. He swallowed back the thought that they were right back to where they’d started after he’d regenerated. She’d desperately wanted her Doctor back and he was caught between trying to convince her that he was still himself, still her Doctor, the man who’d taken her hand and told her to run, and terror at the thought of losing her.

He might still lose her.

Only this time, she wasn’t choosing to go home to her mum’s- this time she might stay in her mind, and refuse to come back to her body.

And she could die.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Rose!”

The Ninth Doctor traipsed blindly through the forest, cursing his inability to determine where he was or where he was going, while simultaneously impressed at the mindscape Rose had created. It was silent and oppressive, and so dark that he couldn’t see- the perfect place to hide. He’d never met a human who could hide from him like this. But then, Rose had always been special. He’d known that the first day he’d met her when he’d taken her hand and his mind had sung. He hadn’t been able to see her timelines, either, and he’d known then that she was different, somehow, even as he’d told her to forget him.

She was fantastic. 

To see what she’d endured, both before and after him...

He swallowed back bile at what he’d seen, what _they’d_ seen on entering Rose’s mind- how that ape Jimmy Stone had treated her, how she’d seemed so lifeless and hopeless. How much _he_ , in his future incarnation, had hurt her. She’d almost died rather than seek help from him.

And now she was lost, buried in her mind and might refuse to come out.

He swallowed. He couldn't face that- couldn’t face a world without Rose.

“Rose!” he shouted for the hundredth time. “Rose, please, come out.”

As ever, there was no reply.

“It’s me, Rose,” He swallowed. “It’s the Doctor!” He tried to grin. “Hello!”

A slight rustling, and then nothing.

“Rose, please. Let me help you.” He inhaled. “I can help.”

The silence had resumed.

“Rose, please, I know you’re here.”

Still nothing.

“I’m not leavin’ until I see you,” he said. “Stubborn, me.”

A slight breeze blew and he closed his eyes, revelling in its familiarity, breathing in the touch of her mind.

“Rose, “ he said softly, sensing something of her close by. _“Please.”_

There was no reply but slowly, so slowly he was certain he was imagining things, there was a slight lightening of the darkness in front of him, until he could almost make out a rocky outcrop near a dense clearing.

He focused intently on the scene, seeing a shadow move.

“Rose?”

The shadow moved again.

“Rose, please, let me see you.”

There was light shifting and suddenly, there she was. Rose Tyler- blond hair lank and lifeless, dressed in a dark, grey hoodie and jeans.

But it wasn’t _her,_ he knew that.

“Rose.”

“Hello, Doctor.”

“That’s me!” He waved madly, containing his seething emotions with a daft smile. 

“You’re dead,” she said flatly. “Am I dead, then?”

He flinched at her harsh, flat tone, devoid of any expression.

“No, course you’re not dead.” He tried to smile, peering at the shade that looked and sounded like her, but he knew was not. 

“Then you can’t be here and this is a trick.”

“It’s not a trick, Rose.” His heart ached that she thought he’d trick her so cruelly. “I’m really here.”

“How?” she said flatly. 

“I’ll tell you...if you come out and see me yourself.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

He couldn’t help the bitter smile that spread across his face at that. “Think I know you better than that, me.”

She fixed him with a flat gaze and said nothing.

“Rose, please” he said quietly, hearts aching so much his future self felt it in back in the infirmary. “Please, come out and talk to me.”

“I am talkin’ to you.”

Her dead, flat tone grated on his mind and resounded with wrongness. 

“But you’re not her- not Rose. Just a part of her subconscious sent out as a decoy while the rest of her hides.” He smiled bitterly. “If anyone knows a decoy avatar, it’s me.”

She said nothing, staring at him, unblinking.

“Why?” He didn’t elaborate.

Her reply showed that he didn’t need to. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

He flickered, the stark pain he felt at that flat proncoument almost ripping his concentration from his grasp. He needed to focus or else he’d never be able to remain in here, independent of the other him. 

“He does, Rose. He’s still me.”

“He isn’t,” she said in that awful tone. “And he doesn’t."

“He’s looking for you now.” Desperation burned through his mind.

She shrugged impassively. “Obligation. Soon as he finds me, he’ll patch me up and chuck me out.”

“No!”

“Course he will.” She didn’t flinch. “He doesn’t want me anymore.”

“Rose, please, come out of wherever you are.” He was trembling so much, he was astounded that he could focus enough to stay in her mind independently of his current incarnation.

“Why?”

“Why not?” He countered. 

She shrugged. “No point, now.”

“Course there is!”

“‘S nice you think so,” she said before vanishing.

“Rose!”

He looked round frantically, terrified that he’d lost the only tenuous lead he had on finding her. Spotting a flash of colour on the ground in the darkness ahead, he ran.

“Rose!”

Even as the avatar came into focus, however, even as his heart broke at the sight of her, he knew this wasn’t Rose. He understood, now, what the avatars were. They weren’t just decoys sent to hide her conscious mind- they were also manifestations of what she felt, her responses to the horrors he’d seen swirling on the surface of her mind. They were her responses to _him,_ and his actions. (He’d hate to think how his current incarnation was faring, lost in the dark as he’d bet he was and only picking up echoes of emotions.)

The first had been indifference, flat, devoid of emotion. A protective shell.

This next one...he swallowed. This was hopelessness. She’d given up. Stopping his advance to avoid spooking her, he approached slowly. “Rose,” he said softly.

“Doctor,” she quietly, not even looking up, pulling at her black hoodie. “This it, then?”

“Is this what?” he asked, dropping down next to her, booted feet stretched out in front of him.

“The end,” she said, her tone aching with so much despair, so much hopelessness that there was no room left for anything else.

“Oh no, Rose,” he said, reaching out for her before he realized what he was doing. This wasn’t Rose- it was just a manifestation of her subconscious mind. There was no touch, no connection to be had. “It’s never that- not for you an’ me.”

She didn’t move, her eyes trained on the blackness in front of her. “But you’re dead,” she told him, the words so resigned that he wanted to weep. “Isn’t that why you’ve come to get me?”

“I’m not dead, Rose.” He swallowed, feeling the pain echo in his counterpart. “‘M right here.”

“In my head,” she pointed out. “Not really _there._ Not anymore. You’re just a figment of my imagination tryin’ to make me feel better before I go.”

“No, love,” he said, pained at her blasé acceptance of her own imminent death. “Didn’t think I’d let you go that easily, did you?”

She finally turned to look at him, and he wished she hadn’t. He’d never seen her vivid brown eyes so lifeless, so utterly devoid of the spark that was Rose Tyler.

“Now I know you’re not real,” was all she said.

“Why’s that?” He focused intently on her, _willing_ her to sense his love, his care and his grief for her, despite the fact that he knew this fragment of emotion couldn’t.

“You’ve never called me that. Not ever.”

“Scared, daft, old man, me. Doesn't mean I didn’t feel it, Rose.” He swallowed. “You know I do.”

“I know you did, in your way,” she told him, her voice resounding with deep loss. “Maybe not the way I wanted you to, but you did.”

“In _every_ way Rose,” he said fervently. “Don’t you ever doubt that.”

She sighed. “Maybe you did, and maybe you didn’t. Doesn’t matter anymore though, does it?”

“Why not?” he demanded, trying to disguise the hurt he felt.

“Well, you’re gone, aren’t you? _He’s_ there now. And he doesn’t.”

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, in spite of the futility of such an act in avatar form. “He’s _me_ , Rose.”

“Don’t bother,” she said. “I know he isn’t. He’s someone else, someone new and he doesn’t want me.” She fixed him with her wounded, grieving eyes. “But why did he pretend? Why couldn’t he just be honest? He made me believe him, made me love him all over again and now…” she trailed off. 

“And now what?” He was almost afraid to hear her reply.

“Now everythin’s over, isn’t it? Same as it always is. Even if he manages to save me, he’s just goin’ to drop me off somewhere and forget about me.” She swallowed painfully. “None of it matters anymore. _I_ don’t matter anymore. Not to him.”

“You matter to _me_ ,” he said vehemently, rage burning anew at his current incarnation’s selfish, stupid actions. “And to him, little though he’s shown it. I’m there Rose- he's _me.”_

She huffed and turned to look out at the blackness once more. “It doesn’t matter, Doctor. Not anymore.”

And with that, she vanished.

He caught his breath, overwhelmed with the pain he’d sensed from that small expression of her unconscious mind. This Rose was _ready_ to die, thought she was going to die and wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of it. She wasn’t angry, or upset or scared- she’d given up and thought it unavoidable.

Seconds later, another flash appeared, and he wondered which of them it would be this time, wondering if he’d be able to bear another encounter with a defeated, broken Rose. Worse, he knew he wouldn’t be able to help, wouldn’t be able to speak to her, _really_ speak to her, until he found _her_ \- her conscious mind.

Rose herself. 

He took a deep breath as he approached the red-clad Rose.

“Oh, look who’s come to say goodbye, then.”

He flinched at the rage in her tone.“ 'M not comin’ to say goodbye,” was all he said, treading carefully.

“Oh even better! Come to say hello, have you?” She turned to face him, her face contorted with rage. “Come to give me a last pat on the head before dumpin’ me off?”

“You know I’d never,” he said calmly, repressing the fear and anger.

“Oh, so that must’ve been someone else who locked me into the TARDIS and sent us both off to rot?”

“I never sent you off to rot!” he exclaimed before taking hold of his emotions again. “I wanted you to live a fantastic life- I didn’t want you to die on that gamestation, Rose.”

“Right, cause I’m much better off now, aren’t I?” Her eyes blazed with rage. “You sent me away to rot on the Estate an’ I lost the last of my time with you and then I came back and you died! You left me with _him_. An’ now I’m goin’ to die anyway. Great choice, Doctor.”

He flinched. “You’re not goin’ to die Rose.”

“Even better! He’ll dump me off back at the Estate and I’ll rot back in that life. Because that’s where he thinks I belong. All I’m worth.” She turned to him, eyes afire. “Why, Doctor? Why did you spend all that time makin’ me believe I was special, that I was somethin’, that I could _do_ somethin’ when you just wanted to dump me off back to rot there anyway?”

“Because you _are_ special! You’re fantastic And I was tryin’ to save you!” Remembered fear caused his own anger to blaze and he fought to contain it.

“But you didn’t!” She shouted right back. “I chose you, I wanted to stay with you, and I would’ve died with you if it came to it, Doctor. But you just sent me away, and when I came back you died!” Her hoodie shifted from red to deep purple and back to red again. “And now he doesn’t want me. He’s goin’ to chuck me out the first chance he gets.” Her hoodie turned dark purple again. 

“He won’t!” Unable to help himself, he reached for her, cursing himself for a fool when his avatar’s arms passed right through her. “He won’t, Rose!”

“He already did,” she told him coldly, her hoodie blood-red once more. “He left me to die on some metal death trap while he was runnin’ off after Madame de Pompadour.” She laughed harshly. “I mean, why would the last Time Lord settle for some stupid Estate chav when he can have his pick of any woman in history?”

“I don’t love her, Rose,” he told her, holding onto his temper by the barest thread, and wanting to hit his current self all over again. 

“No, but _he_ does,” she said harshly. “He loves her and he doesn't give a _damn_ about me. He left me to die after showin’ me in a thousand little ways that I don’t matter to him anymore. ‘M just the blond bimbo his predecessor picked up.”

“Don’t you talk about yourself like that!” he growled.

“Why not, isn’t that what he thinks of me?” she challenged, disdain and grief dripping from every word, her hoodie once more a deep purple. “I’m just excess baggage now- somethin’ you picked up and he got stuck with. Maybe at first it was nice havin’ a familiar face along but now he doesn’t need that anymore- doesn’t need _me_ anymore.” She blinked back tears. “What good ‘m I to him? What does he need with some ignorant chav stupid enough to fall in love with him?” She shook her head disparagingly. “Even Madame de Pompadour saw it, I reckon. Must’ve had a right laugh together over that.”

“They didn’t, and nothing happened between them, Rose, believe me.” He was desperate to convince her. 

“But something did happen, Doctor.” She turned to face him with finality in her eyes. “He lied to me. He abandoned me. And he betrayed me. He told me exactly what he thinks I’m worth.” She turned away. “‘S not the first to think I’m worthless but I really thought...after you…” she wiped away angry tears. “I thought maybe he’d feel the same, that he might want me too. I thought he _was_ you. But he just sees me the same way everyone else does an’ I was stupid to think he didn’t.”

“Everyone who?” He focused on her intently.

Rose turned her face away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Who?”

She was silent. 

“Jimmy Stone?” he said quietly.

“Don’t you dare mention his name!” She seethed and disappeared in a flash of red, her rage so overpowering that it almost knocked him over.

He stood stone still, scanning the horizon for the next Rose, the last Rose, the one he knew he’d have to face before seeing Rose herself.

Fear.

Taking a deep breath, he looked for that splash of colour and found a flash of blue pressed against a wall, afraid to move.

“Rose?” he said quietly.

She didn’t move, didn’t blink.

“Rose?”

She pressed herself more tightly to the rock, rending his hearts.

“Rose, it’s me, the Doctor,” he said gently, arms outstretched and flinched when she shied back from him. “Rose, why don’t you come out and talk to me?”

“Can’t,” she whispered, “Have to stay still.”

“Why?”

“If you stay still, you don’t get hurt.”

“No one is going to hurt you, Rose,” he said softly, careful not to make any sudden movements or projections. “Not here.”

“He already did,” she said quietly. “I forgot my place and now I’m payin’ for it.”

“Don’t say that, Rose!” He fought to keep his projection stable and calm, burying his rage deep inside. “Your place is with me, on the TARDIS. It’s in the stars! It’s anywhere you want it to be.”

She curled in on herself. “Everytime I start to hope, every time I believe I’m more, that I can do more, it hurts. Because it always comes crashing down again.” She bowed her head. “If I stay down, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

He felt as though he’d been winded, his mind stuttering so much that his avatar flickered momentarily.

_Stay still._

He’d heard it in those awful surface memories on the way in, she’d said it now... and _now_ he understood the mindscape.

 _Stay still_.

It was all utterly still, hiding her light and her spark, her human fearlessness, cloaking everything she was with the shadow she equated with survival.

She finally shifted her eyes to him and their expression almost drove him to his knees. “I’m sorry.” With that, she vanished.

“Rose” he croaked, forcing the words out, projecting every ounce of pleading and love and yearning he had. “Please, Rose, come out.” He took a deep breath, knowing he had no choice if he wanted to see her. “He won’t know what you’ve said to me. Not until we leave here. He won’t find you if you don't want him to. Just...please, let me see you Rose. It’s been so long…”

Nothing changed that he could discern, but abruptly, he sensed her nearby and he eagerly followed the sending until he arrived at a rocky outcrop.

A long, black shadow shifted suddenly and two golden eyes gleamed in the blackness. He started, staring intently ahead as to his shock, the shadows coalesced and receded to reveal a jet-black wolf.

“Oh, Rose,” he breathed, inching closer, his hands trembling in wonder. “Look at you. Blimey, you’re beautiful.”

The wolf blinked her golden eyes and turned to lie in the clearing bedside a fallen log. Taking the hint, he sat on it. A silent whisper sounded in his mind and his whole being thrilled at the familiar presence.

It was _her,_ really her, this time _._

_Doctor?_

He pushed back his grief and smiled as his hearts broke. “That’s me.”

_Is it really you?_

“Course it’s me.”

 _Where is_ **_he_ ** _?_

“Who?” he asked, knowing who she meant.

 _The new Doctor_ was all she said. _If you’re here, where’s he?_

“Around,” was all he said. “Dunno where he’s got to in here- can’t see a thing. He won’t know what happens between us until we regroup.” He forced a smile. “Might be a bit rusty, me, but I can manage that much.”

 _You hate telepathy_ , was her response.

He swallowed. “I don’t hate it. It’s just hard, knockin’ around on me own in there. Not like...before.” 

_Then why did you come?_

His emotions seethed so that his entire avatar burned with a fierce light for a moment, until he managed to wrestle it under control. _Do you need to ask, Rose?_

There was no reply and those golden eyes stared at him, unblinking and a wall suddenly grew up around them. 

“Why, Rose?” he asked softly, unable to bear the darkness and the silence any longer.

_Why what?_

“Why didn't you come to me when you needed treatment?” He swallowed. “I almost lost you.”

He could almost see her shrug in his mind’s eye. _You weren’t there. There was only him._

He closed his eyes. “He’s me, Rose.”

_No he isn’t. Don’t lie to me, ‘s not fair._

”I’d never! He’s me, Rose, that’s how it works.”

_He’s not._

He sighed. “Even if you don’t believe it, he’s still the Doctor, still _a_ doctor- why didn’t you go to him to look at that wound?”

 _Didn’t want to bother him,_ was her cagey reply. _Not for somethin’ that small. Would’ve been the excuse he was lookin’ for to chuck me off, really._

“Something small?” He was stunned. “Rose you went into septic shock! You nearly died!”

He could almost see her shrug in his mind.

_I didn’t, though. And I don’t think he’d mind too much. Not really._

“Don’t say that!” he snapped. “Don’t you _ever_ say that Rose!”

_Why not? ‘S the truth. He left me to die on that spacestation Doctor. He doesn't want me anymore, an’ I don’t matter, not to him. But I felt like I mattered, that I was doin’ somethin’ that mattered on the TARDIS, you know? An’ I thought if I could show him that I wouldn’t make waves, that I wouldn’t ask for anythin’ or need anythin’, maybe he’d let me stay a bit longer. I don’t...I’ve never mattered, Doctor. Not to anyone, not_ **_really_** _. Not until you, not until my life on the TARDIS an’ I didn’t want to lose it. After you, I thought I was safe, that I’d never lose that. But he…_ The wolf huffed. _‘S always the same. ‘S always some bloke spinnin’ pretty lines, tellin’ me to ignore every warnin’ in my head, tellin’ me how special I am, how different I am, how I can do all that while they’re comin’ at me with a hammer to break me an’ everything they built up into tiny pieces._

 _“Rose,”_ he said hoarsely.

She looked at him and his hearts stuttered in his current incarnation’s chest.

_There’s nothin’ left to break, Doctor._

_++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++_

Far away, lost in deep, dark silence, the Tenth Doctor suddenly heard that single, broken thought, and almost fell to his knees at the throbbing grief that echoed across Rose’s mindscape. Hearts clenching, he closed his eyes in horrified shame.


	6. Don't Stay Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has found that often, hope hurts. But according to the Doctor, that doesn't make it any less essential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Here we have the next chapter of this fic. This time, we're back to Rose's POV.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: I'm going to put this upfront: this is a VERY difficult and painful chapter. There is a lot of self doubt, examination of worth, exploration of the effect of abuse (without an explicit look at the actual abuse) on a person, discussion of PTSD, discussion of death (NOT suicidal and no one dies or is in danger of death in this chapter- it's just a discussion), wanting to give up, hopelessness...you get the gist. Please be mindful of this when reading and look after your mental health, people.**
> 
> As always, many thanks to the wonderful Rose_Nebula for her beta and endless patience with my never-ending complaints and drama about this fic as I write each chapter. You are truly a gem and I'm so lucky to have you! <3
> 
> All mistakes are mine, hopefully this isn't too terrible (RL has NOT let up, so apologies in advance if this isn't up to scratch).
> 
> Hope you enjoy (or at least don't hate!)

_There’s nothin’ left to break, Doctor._

The mindscape was silent, and Rose curled silently in on herself, hiding from the disgust she knew she’d see in the Doctor’s eyes.

 _Her_ Doctor. 

The one who’d loved her.

For a moment, the black gloom surrounding her lightened before plunging back into darkness. Whatever he’d felt before, he couldn’t love her now. Not now that he’d seen, now that he knew how broken, how _worthless_ she really was.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy and still and she began to feel lethargic and so very still that she closed her eyes as everything started to fade away.

_“No!”_

She opened her eyes in shock at the Doctor’s vehement shout, only to see him burning brightly, his face fixed in concentration and eyes aflame as he looked at her and pushed out with... _something_ , something that made her wake just a little, and the darkness lightened just a bit. Not much, but enough that she could see outlines of her surroundings in the darkness.

And him, burning bright.

Her Doctor.

 _No, what?_ She felt compelled to ask.

“Don’t you ever say there’s nothin’ left of you.”

 _It’s true,_ she said softly, the heaviness pressing at the edges of her mind again, even as his vehement rejection of her brokenness warmed her slightly, causing a slight breeze to blow across the mindscape.

“It isn’t,” he said fiercely, blazing all the more brightly, pushing at the darkness, forcing it back just the tiniest bit with a power she’d never seen, and had only guessed at. “You’re more than just broken shards Rose- you’re strength and love and kindness and compassion like nobody I’ve ever known. The best of humanity.” He swallowed. “You’re fantastic.”

_How can you say that after seein’...everything?_

His eyes burned blue flame, warming her briefly with their intensity.

The darkness lifted a little more.

“I’m sayin’ that _because_ I’ve seen everythin’.” He swallowed. “To come through all that, to survive what you have and still be what you are, to do what you do...you’re a wonder, Rose Tyler. You’ve broken past it and made yourself into something fantastic. You haven’t let it define you, you haven’t let that scum define you.” 

Feeling a little more awake, she yawned and sat up on her hind legs. _He was right, though._

“Don’t you ever say that!” The burning brightness intensified. “Don’t you ever, Rose.”

 _‘S true though._ She sighed as the wind died down. _Jimmy didn’t...he didn’t make me this way- he just saw what I was and threw it in my face._

“No!”

 _You know it’s true._ She swallowed as the light faded a little more, the darkness a little stronger. _It hurt but...I shouldn’t have listened to him in the first place._ She hung her head in shame. _When... Jimmy...when it started, he was always tellin’ me how special I was, how different. He told me I was so beautiful an’ amazin’ and he’d get so mad when I wouldn’t believe him. He said it was ‘cause he loved me so much that he hated seein’ me put myself down._ She huffed a wolf’s laugh, the darkness more pronounced. _An’ I was so sick of bein’ told I’d never make anythin’ of myself, that I’d never do anythin’, that I was stupid and worthless and that I’d never even make it off the Estate, that I fell right for his bull._ She fixed him with a steady look, the remembered pain of it whispering across her mind before she forced it back and replaced it with the still, comfortable numbness. _If I hadn’t listened, he’d never have been able to do what he did. I’d have known he was full of shit when he was tellin’ me all the stuff I wanted to hear, tellin’ me I was special. If I hadn’t let him lift me up he’d never have been able to push me off and break me. It’s my own fault for lettin’ him._

“No, Rose- it’s never that!” The Doctor’s tone was so anguished that Rose’s heart seized. “It’s never your fault! And you are all those things- special and magnificent and clever and fantastic, and you deserved to hear it! You deserved to hear them!”

 _I’m not though,” she said_ softly, barely able to think the words _. Even you..._ ** _he_** _...thought so._

“He’s a fool!” the Doctor growled. _“I’m_ a fool for letting you doubt yourself for a single moment, for lettin’ my own fears run me off.”

 _‘S ok,_ she shrugged. _Just proves my point. If I hadn’t….if you didn’t…. Why did you?_

“Why did I what?”

_Why did you make me believe all that fairytale stuff, make me believe I was important?_

“Because you are!” 

_But I’m not!_ she shouted. _Even_ **_he_ ** _saw it. It’s why he ran after_ **_her_ ** _in France, why he’s been pushin’ me away. It’s why he doesn’t want me._

“He does, Rose!” the Doctor looked pained. “He does, because I do.”

 _But you’re not there anymore!_ Her heart ached even as she said it. _This is all we have left, now- you comin’ into my head before I die. Outside, it’s him and a body that might not even work anymore._

“Rose.”

 _It’s the truth, Doctor and you know it. As soon as you leave here, you go back into his head an’ I die.”_ She blinked. _Even if I don’t, he’ll just ship me off home._

“You’re not goin’ to die, and he won’t leave you!”

 _‘S exactly what’ll happen,_ she sighed. _You know it an’ I know it. He left me to die, Doctor. An’ he didn’t give me a second thought. Why would he keep me around after I caused all this trouble?_

“Rose…”

 _No, look, ‘s time to face up to the truth._ The mindscape darkened again. _However you felt, he doesn’t want me anymore. An’ I don’t blame him- the last Time Lord, and a chav from the East End? It sounds like some kind of bloomin’ fairytale, Doctor._ She scoffed. _An’ fairytales aren’t real, we both know that. He doesn’t want me anymore. I don’t blame him_. It grew darker again. _I’m nothin’ an’ nobody, and he sees that. Makes sense he’d want someone more educated, someone cleverer, someone more important and posh...someone_ **_more._**

“There isn’t more, Rose!” he growled, blue eyes burning. “You’re the best there is.”

 _Doctor_ , she said tiredly, not even knowing what to say to his impassioned defence. _I just...it’s over now. You’re gone and he’s left me, and it’s time to let it all go._

“Let what go?” he demanded, jumping up from his log and prowling towards her. “Let _what_ go, Rose? You?”

 _Yes….no….I dunno._ She was frustrated and tired and all she wanted was to hide again, her momentary energy and lightness forgotten. _S’ just...I’m tired of tryin’ to keep what isn’t there- it just ends up hurtin’ me_. _I wanted to believe so much…’s just like what happened with Jimmy, though. An’ it’s my fault for believin’ it in the end._

“Stop saying that!” he growled. “None of it is your fault! Let alone believing that there was something special about you.”

 _But there isn’t!_ She was frustrated. Why couldn’t he see? _There isn’t anythin’ special about me and every time I believe there is I get hurt. It happened with Jimmy an’ I got hurt, and it happened with the new Doctor_ ** _._** _If I hadn’t been so desperate to believe Jimmy’s bull about bein’ special, I’d have known straight off he was lyin’ and I’d have told him to sod off. An’..._ she swallowed. _The same happened with you an’... him. You made me believe I was special, that I could do...things, that I...that I mattered, an’ now it’s all happening again because it isn’t true an’ he knows it!_ The agony was too much, and she noticed a violent wind whipping the trees. _Why did you make me believe you?_

“D’you think I’d lie to you, Rose?” He was almost crackling with energy, pushing at... _something_ she couldn’t see. “Do you think I’d tell you things that weren’t true?”

 _No but..._ she swallowed painfully _. Maybe you saw more than there ever was to me. Maybe it’s cause of what had happened to you, maybe it’s cause you just wanted to see more there, which speaks better about you than it does about me, but...it’s not there Doctor. An’ tryin’ to act like it did, waitin’ for_ **_him_ ** _to see it, instead of just knowin’ what I was an’ what I was worth..it won’t work. And it hurts to keep lookin’ for it, waitin’ for other people to see what isn’t there, I just keep gettin’ hurt. After Jimmy, I was so sure I'd never fall for that again, that I’d never let anyone do that to me again. But then you came and no matter how hard I tried…._ she swallowed. _Then you came and you just...it’s my own fault, I was the one who knew better but I believed you and then, well, now…_ she hung her head. _Now there’s him and he sees exactly what I am. And he doesn’t want me. I’m nothin’ Doctor, you know that._

“Rose.” His eyes burned blue fire. “You know me better than that. You think I’d lie to you, think I’d play with you like that?”

 _No but you...cared about me,_ she said brightening momentarily at the thought before plunging back into despair. _Maybe what you saw was because you cared about me._

“I _do_ care,” he said fiercely, his face set with strain. “I did care, and still do- always, Rose. But that doesn’t mean that I was projectin’ what I wanted to see, that I was just seein’ what I wanted to see. Rose, I…” he took a deep breath. “I love you _because_ of what you are, who you are. That’s what makes you so fantastic! You’re brave, and clever and curious and fierce. You’ve a kindness that lights up the universe, that a tired old Time Lord doesn’t deserve and never thought he’d have again. You gave me that, you _are_ that.”

 _I wanted to believe you so much, you know_ she said quietly. _I really did. But he’s taken it all away. Now I know he sees me the same way everyone else does, the same way Jimmy did. I can’t...every time I climb up I get pushed off, Doctor, and I can’t do it anymore._

“What do you mean, Rose?” His voice was quiet, fearful. “What are you sayin’?”

She was silent for a moment and thought she might have started to slip into delirium because she fancied she could hear his hearts beating in their two-one signature.

“Rose?” He edged closer.

 _I’m tired, Doctor,_ she said finally. _I’m tired an’ I just...I can’t keep doin’ this anymore._

“Doing what?” His tone was low, urgent. 

_I’m tired of not matterin’ and I’m sick of pretendin’ I do. It just hurts me an’ I can’t anymore._ She closed her eyes and laid her muzzle on her paws. For the first time, she noticed that it was... _odd_ , that’d she’d taken the form of a wolf. Funny, but she hadn’t thought to question it, before. Why hadn’t she? How had her brain been so... focused... that she’d missed it? 

Not that it mattered anymore.

The forest grew still.

“No!” 

Suddenly, a great gust of wind shook the clearing, ruffling her fur and waking her up again. Miles away, it shook the Tenth Doctor until he almost lost his grasp on her mind, trembling in terror.

_Doctor, what…?_

“You’re not givin’ up on me Rose.” His eyes burned into her very soul. “I won’t let you give up. I can’t lose you.”

 _What was that?_ she demanded. _What are you doin’ to my mind?_

“Not doin’ _to-_ I’d never do that to you, Rose.. _._ just givin’ you a little gift- call it a boost of willpower.” He forced a grin. “Time Lord, me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

 _But why?_ she asked, torn between frustration and something that almost resembled pleasure. _What’s the point? What difference does it even make it I’m around or not? Every time I think I can do somethin’ worthwhile, someone just comes and rips it all away, an I won’t live like that anymore. That’s just existin’. What’s the point of that?_

“Oh, Rose,” he said, eyes fixed on her face. “You do so much more than exist. If only you knew just what you’ve done for me, for others, the places we’ve been. You’ve no idea the difference you’ve made.”

 _You’re just sayin’ that_ , she said, determined not to believe him, determined not to fall into the same, tired trap of flying high for a brief, shining moment before crashing headfirst back into reality. _If I disappeared tomorrow, no one would notice, Doctor. ‘M just one nameless face from a council estate._

“You’re so much more than that, Rose.” He prowled forward, hands trembling. “If only you could see- if only I could _make_ you see!”

 _See what?_ she demanded, pulling back in terror, the mindscape taking a blue tinge and trembling with the fear she tried to tamp down. _See how useless I am? How common? How stupid and ordinary? How all these other people matter but I don’t?_ She closed her eyes knowing it was futile, that she’d never be able to down him out- not her Doctor, not the forceful presence that was trying to light her mind, to convince her to cast off the dark stillness that was her safety. _I don’t want to look anymore, Doctor. I can’t look anymore. A heart can only break so many times an’ I’ve been broken enough._

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself.” His voice was much closer than she expected. 

She opened her eyes and blinked to see him kneeling in front of her, his burning gaze focused on her. 

_Please Doctor, I know you want to help but I just...I can’t go through that again. I know what I am._

“But you _don’t_ , Rose!” he said urgently. “You don’t! That...that worthless ape convinced you you were nothin’ to make himself feel better, to control you because he knew that if you ever realised what you are, you’d be unstoppable, would never give him the time of day.”

 _And_ **_him_ ** _? The other Doctor?_ She sighed. _Was he puttin’ me down to make himself feel better, too? Is he a small man?_

“He is, in a way. He never meant to hurt you Rose. It doesn't excuse what he did, but he was runnin’ scared.”

 _Come on Doctor, that’s just...please, let it go. Let_ **_me_ ** _go._

“Never!” He refused to move, kneeling as he was and staring directly into her face. “I’ll never let you go, Rose.”

_Doctor, I-_

“Let me show you!” he interrupted. “Please, Rose, let me show you what you mean to me.”

 _What for?_ _And how would you even do that, anyway?_ she demanded, heart pounding with terror.

His smile was tinged with grief, nothing like the daft grin she’d so loved to see on him in life. “Time Lord, me. And a genius. I’m impressive!”

She almost smiled (could wolves smile?). 

Almost.

“Please, Rose?” His voice was soft.

 _Why?_ she pleaded. _Tell me why._

He was silent for a moment. “Because I thought I’d lost you,” he said finally. “I thought future me had nigh on killed you, and when I saw a chance to...I had to come, Rose. I had to!”

 _But you hate telepathy_ , she said again. _Alright, not hate_ , she hastily corrected herself, seeing him about to interrupt. _But you...you don’t use it. Now you’re in my head and an’ even I can see it’s costin’ you, it’s drainin’ you. An’ now you’re offerin’ to let me see into your head!_

“I’d do a lot more than for you Rose. Don’t you know?”

_Know what? I…please…_

The mindscape shook and far away, lost in a black mist, the Tenth Doctor was bowled over by a blast of fear.

“Please, Rose. Trust me.” He held out his hand, the hand she’d taken without a thought and run into a life she’d never known, a life where, all too briefly she’d shone, she’d _mattered_ , a hand she’d dreamt of seeing since fire and daleks and dust and…

“Rose?”

There could only ever be one response to that plaintiff request and slowly, shakily, she lifted her grey-splotched paw and put it in his hand.

And saw.

_Suddenly, she was watching herself in a lift, asking about students and the Doctor was impressed at her quick thinking and solid reasoning, even if she was wrong. She felt a spark of interest at her tenacity in questioning him, and his sheer terror and utter disbelief at watching herself swing across a flaming pool of goo on a chain to rescue him. She felt his despair at her refusal and his joy at her decision to come._

_And so it began._

_She saw his pride in her standing up to him, at her excellent questions, time and time again. She felt his worry for her when she’d been captured and hurt, his joy at her strength in escaping, in not shying away from the darkness that came with his life. She felt his fierce love and possessiveness when he thought he might lose her, whether to Mickey or Jack or Adam or anyone else, and his overpowering relief when she’d chosen him every time. She felt his pride in her as she toppled dictators and saved prisoners, and helped refugees, when she’d challenged him, when she’d trusted him to fire a missile straight at them, when she’d turned down a life of luxury when alien princes had begged to marry her, when she’d smiled and slipped her hand in his and asked to go home._

_To the TARDIS._

_She felt his deep love wash over her time and time again, a pulsing, breathing, living entity that she felt in her very bones, but she also felt his admiration of her, his pride in her, his envy of her ease in talking with people, her dedication to slaves and kings alike, her compassion for the downtrodden and poor, her outrage at injustice and greed and corruption._

_She felt his pride when the people she’d helped sang her praises, had asked for her blessing or begged her to accept whatever small tokens they had as symbols of their gratitude. She felt his pride when he later learned of places that had given her titles fixed in their history- Defender of the Downtrodden, Bearer of Justice, the Merchant of Compassion._

_She saw and and felt it all- so much, she thought she’d burst with wonder and shock and joy and fear._

_And then she saw the Gamestation._

_She felt his grief at sending her away in his TARDIS, at losing them both and preparing to face his final death, and his simultaneous horror and joy at her return, at seeing her walk glowing and golden from the TARDIS, the power of the vortex within her, his utter devotion and surrendering of himself to her- to saving her, even at the expense of his own life._

_She felt his grief at their first and last kiss before he took the Vortex into himself and sealed his own fate, ending that life._

_For her._

_She felt his single-minded focus on getting her to safety before he regenerated, his grief at their parting and his hope that the next him would be everything she deserved- younger-looking, prettier, more charming. She felt every pulse of his hope and his fear and his love as he smiled on her with that daft, beloved face one more time and burst into flame, desperately hoping that he’d emerge from the searing flames as everything she deserved._

_Rose Tyler._

Gasping, she tore her paw from his hand and stared at him, noticing that their surroundings were grey now, and the darkness was lifting.

 _I killed you!_ She howled, backing away from him, the mindscape shaking with her grief. _I killed you, Doctor! I killed my Doctor!_

“No, Rose! You didn’t!” He seized her paw and crawled forward on his knees, his gaze on hers, blue eyes on gold. “You saved me! If you hadn’t come back, I’d be dead- for good.” He gave her a sad smile. “A dalek’s beam...it kills and with no TARDIS, I’d not be able to regenerate.”

 _But I killed you_ , she whispered, trembling.

“You saved me, Rose,” he said again. “And I saved you. An’ I’d do it again. You’re worth more than a regeneration- more than _all_ my regenerations.”

She closed her eyes in grief and when she opened them again, clouds were forming overhead and it was raining. _I’m sorry,_ was all she could say. _I’m so sorry!_

“Don’t be Rose,” he whispered. “You’re worth it, don’t you see? You’re worth it all, and if I had to do it all again I’d still choose you.”

She shuddered, knowing deep within that, no matter what her current Doctor thought, _this_ one had loved her, _did_ love her.

But he was dead.

 _How does that help?_ She shook her head, firmly pushing at her grief and inadvertently stopping the rain. _How ‘m I supposed to go back out there now, knowing that even if I don’t die, the only person who ever thought I was worth somethin’ is gone?_

“I’m not gone, Rose!” His eyes pierced her. “I’m right there! He’s me, I’m part of him,”

 _But it’s not you, Doctor. You’d never do what he did. Even if you’re in there somewhere, he ignored you and made a different choice. He doesn’t_ **_want_ ** _me, and I’m so tired of always bein’ the reject! I’m tired of bein’ the leftovers, and having to feel like that every single day. I can’t go back to him knowin’ that he doesn’t want me there, that given the choice, he’d never have brought me to begin with._ She closed her eyes in grief. _That he sees me the same way as everyone else- Estate trash, a stupid chav who doesn’t measure up to anyone worth knowin’. Not after...not after I’ve seen you again! Not after someone cared, just for a moment! It’s too much!_

“Rose,” he breathed, his eyes burning so brightly as his face suddenly blazed. “Listen to me. He does love you, he does care an’ he’s not the only one who does. You know that, an’ I know that. I know you’re not hearin’ me now because you’re traumatised, Rose. You’ve been hurt and you’re sufferin’ from post-traumatic stress.”

 _You think I’m crazy?_ She stiffened, thunder rumbling in the distance.

“Of course not! You’re not mad- happen to know a lot about mad, me.” He gave her a quick, tight grin. “You’ve been hurt, what happened to you with...with that ape was abuse, Rose. He inflicted psychological and physical abuse on you, and that leaves...marks, on the mind.”

 _What, like a bruise?_ She asked stiffly.

“Yes, exactly like a bruise! Always with the right questions! Or like a wound. And when things happen that remind you of what he did, it’s like bein’ punched in the bruise- or the wound- even if someone has just brushed against it accidentally. Course it hurts and you pull away because it feels like you’re under attack all over again, to make sure you’re safe and don’t get hurt again. That’s the survival instinct.”

_So what are you sayin’?_

“What did you say to me when I found you just now? What is it you’ve been sayin’ and doin’ with all the darkness and the stillness and the hiding?”

 _Stay still_ , she whispered.

“An’ why’s that?”

 _Because it means you don’t get hurt again,_ she said quietly, feeling as though she were walking on the edge of a cliff, the ground shaking beneath them. _It’s safe._

“Right, that's the thing. Does this feel safe to you, Rose? You nearly died and now-” He swept his arm widely to encompass her mindscape. “you’re hidin’ in here- your beautiful, brilliant human mind is shut down, turnin’ all its fantastic powers of imagination and emotion into darkness, to hide you. Don’t you see, Rose?”

 _I don’t want to hurt anymore_ , she told him. _I’m tired of hurtin’. An’ I’m scared of...of goin’ back._

“And that’s the trauma, Rose!” He took her other paw, holding both together. “That’s the trauma talkin’! Your brain is tryin’ to protect you from being hurt by taking you away from everything that might hurt you, but now you’re in a prison, Rose! You weren’t hurt because you believed in yourself- you were hurt because lowlife scum built you up to break you down, to make you feel weak and small. You got hurt because future me was a selfish, cowardly sod and ran from his feelings. That’s why you were hurt!”

 _So you’re sayin’ I should just go back so he can hurt me some more?_ She demanded. _Make myself his emotional punching bag?_

“No!” He shouted and then took hold of himself. “No, not that. He won’t, and you should _never_ accept that. The thing of it is, Rose, you shouldn’t go back for him, or me, or anyone else- you need to go back for you.”

 _What for?_ She asked bitterly. _He’s just going to throw me off the minute I wake up anyway._ **_If_ ** _I wake up._

“You will,” he said with deep certainty. “Medically, you’re stable now- we got to you in time- and mentally…” He took a deep breath. “Look around Rose- you’re in control here. You...your telepathy is strong, strong enough to take you out...or hide you here forever.”

_I thought you said humans from my time didn’t have telepathy or know how to use it?_

“No more they do, but you, Rose Tyler, you are special. Unique.” His eyes burned with what even she had to admit was love. “Fantastic.”

 _Is this…._ She swallowed, grief rising and a heavy rain falling. _Is this because of what I did? On the Gamestation? Is it Bad Wolf?_

“Bad Wolf.” He smiled, burning with pride this time. “You looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into you. You linked with the old girl, swallowed the vortex and it’s changed you.”

 _‘Does that...is that…._ she took a deep breath. _‘S that what usually happens?_

“No idea!” He grinned, that daft smile she’d missed so much, and the sun shone briefly through the clouds. “It’s never happened before, never been done.”

_What, never?_

“Nope! Never.”

She was quiet for a moment, gazing in wonder and no small measure of fear at the mindscape she’d apparently created, the trees and flowers and rocks, the grey clouds above and the rain that stopped and started on a whim. Her white and grey paws, her light-coloured flank, so different from the deep black of moments before.

Her. It had all been her. She’d done this, she could pull herself out of it...and perhaps that choice, that _power_ was the most terrifying thing.

A thought occurred to her and she lifted her head to fix him with her golden gaze.

 _You said…you said I could pull myself out, Doctor._ He nodded, watching her intently.

_And that I could stay. Could I really do that? Stay in here?_

“You could.”

 _And…_ She swallowed. _Could you stay with me? Would you?_

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Far away, the Tenth Doctor froze at the blast of desperation that buffeted the mindscape, accompanied by a single question.

_Would you?_

  
  



	7. A Light in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices. It's all down to choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Here is our next chapter. This is also from Rose's POV, before we switch back to the Doctor next chapter. This is the last of the telepathy chapters for this fic, and the last real time we get to spend with Nine directly. *sobs*  
> Or is it? We shall see! This chapter is much lighter than the last two as the Doctor helps Rose to find her way, although it still deals with some VERY heavy topics.  
>  **Trigger warning for this chapter: non-specific references to abuse and domestic violence, some discussion of hopelessness and lack of self-worth, brief discussion of trauma and effects of PTSD.**  
>  I struggled a lot with this chapter as RL is as much of a jerk as it always is (not helped by SCORCHING temperatures here in the land of Oz- THERE WAS NO SLEEP TO BE HAD LAST NIGHT), so all hail the mighty Rose_Nebula for her wonderful beta (seriously, she stayed up SUPER LATE so I could get this chapter to you today rather than tomorrow), and for her constant support and convincing me not to hurl this chapter into the fire. YOU ARE THE VERY BEST, DARLING <3 <3 <3
> 
> And now, on with the show! I hope you like this (or at least don't hate), all mistakes are mine.

_Could you stay with me? Would you?_

The silence seemed to throb, and Rose felt as though her entire being throbbed with it.

“I could,” was the low reply in that voice she loved so much, sending a brief ray of sunlight into the clearing. “I can, but…”

 _But you don’t want to,_ she finished, despondently. _It was stupid, forget I asked._

The sunlight vanished. 

“It’s not that, Rose.”

 _S’OK, I understand._ She huffed, laying her head on her paws. _You’d have to live in here forever until I die._ She blinked. _Does that you mean you’d die too? If you stayed, I mean?_

“Technically, yeah, I s’pose I would, if future me didn’t transfer me out before it happened.”

 _I’m sorry, I didn’t realise._ She kicked herself for missing the obvious. _Forget I asked._

“Rose, look at me.” 

She gazed at her surroundings, grey once more. _Don’t worry about it._

“Rose.”

She stared determinedly at the rock in front of her, hating herself for that brief moment of hope and how much it hurt to lose it.

_“Rose.”_

Tired of waiting, the Doctor took her muzzle and looked straight into her eyes, his blue eyes blazing with emotion.

“Make no mistake. If you stay, I’m stayin’ with you.”

She stared dumbly at him. _But you…_

“It’s not about not wantin’ to stay with you- I don’t want _you_ to stay.”

 _Why not?_ she asked faintly, heart aching at the intense way only he could ever look at her.

“Because you deserve better. I want...” He took a deep breath. “I want more for you than an ending, Rose, more than _hiding_. You deserve a life full of adventure and excitement and...love. A _fantastic_ life. That’s why I sent you away, and why I did what I did on the Gamestation. ” His look broke her heart. “You’re meant for so much more than just hidin’ in your head until your life runs out.”

She blinked, the grey momentarily lighter. _I...I’d probably die anyway._ She swallowed. _If I stayed. No food or whatever._

“I’d never let you die,” he said fiercely. “I’d keep you going and I’d keep trying to bring you out, hopin’ against hope that one day you might decide to come back. To live.”

She looked away. **_You_ ** _might. But he wouldn’t. He won’t._

“Rose.” Her muzzle was gently turned back to face him. “He is me. I’m part of him. I know he would.”

 _He doesn’t want me_ , she reminded him, steeling herself against the pain, the rumble of thunder overhead.

“He does want you. He’s a daft sod, a coward, an’ he’s behaved so badly that I’d sick your mother on him if I could. But he does want you. He’s just too scared to admit it.”

_An’ what? I should just go back and hang about this bloke who doesn’t look like you, doesn’t act like you and treats me like a yo-yo?_

“Course not. You should go back and _live,_ Rose.” He swallowed, his blue eyes full of pain. “I’ve had my time, me. This me, at least. But you? You’ve still got your life ahead of you, places to see and discover, people to meet, revolutions to start. “ He tried to grin. “Mobs and flaming torches to outrun.”

 _Without you, though._ It began to drizzle again. _‘S not the same without you._

“I’m _there_ , Rose. This me is part of the next me, and he’s still the same bloke that took your hand in that basement and told you to run.”

 _An’ blew up my job,_ she muttered, trying to hide her tears. 

He grinned. “That’s the one!”

She snorted.

“But Rose, even if you choose not to stay with him, you deserve to _live_. If you go back to him, and you don’t want to stay, I’ll make him take you to…”

 _What, mum’s?_ She said bitterly. _‘S the only grand adventure I’ve got waiting for me if I go back. All I’m fit for._

“Rose.” He growled. “I won’t have you sayin’ that, me. You’re the best, you’re fantastic and you’re made for this life of mine.” He shook his head. “I’ve had a lot of companions, me.”

 _I know that._ She glared at him. **_Now._ ** _Would’ve been nice to know before I ran into her!_

“That mess with Sarah-Jane.” He cringed. “I should’ve told you before, and the daft sod stuck his foot in it and made it worse.”

_Why didn’t you ever tell me?_

He sighed. “When we met, Rose, I wasn't expecting to have another companion ever again.”

The forest grew still.

 _You were goin’ to die,_ she said softly. _I knew it, that night. After...after Henriks blew._

“You did?” He stared at her. “How?”

 _I just...the way you were. You were all talkin’ and laughin’ and wavin’ that detonator around, but...your eyes._ She huffed. _I dunno how, but I knew. ‘S why I was so happy to see you pokin’ around the cat-flap the next day._

“You’re not wrong.” He smiled sadly. “I’d come from, well, you know. I was the only one left, had to pull the trigger myself, no less. Thought there was no point going on, that I was done. But then I met you.” He smiled. “Shirty pink and yellow human about to be murdered by shop dummies.”

She stared at him, holding her breath.

“An’ even though you were scared, and in danger, you kept your head. You were quick on your feet- sharp, clever. Askin’ questions, all the right questions, making educated guesses based on the information you had.” He smiled. “You were brilliant.”

 _I’m not_ , she said, heart beginning to pound. _I’m just a shop girl. An’ you’re the one who saved my life._

“An’ you saved mine right back,” he fired back. “That shop girl swung across a lava pit to save a sorry old Time Lord she didn’t know, riskin’ her own life in the process.” He swallowed. “And then you said yes. Came with me, _chose_ me, chose this life, savin’ me all over again, and you’ve been brilliant, Rose. No companion I’ve ever had has taken to it so well, taken to _me_ so well.” He shook his head. “Even managed to bond with the old girl, while you’ve been at it. She let you swallow her heart, Rose. No one, _no one_ , has ever managed to do that. Remember what happened to Blon Fel Fotch?”

Rose nodded dumbly.

“The TARDIS looked into you and she loved what she saw, to let you look into her and take in her power. She trusted you with herself, because what she saw was magnificent. Know how I know?”

_How?_

“Because it’s what I saw the first time I met you, what I see every time I look at you. You convinced me to keep going that night, to keep travelling and hoping and helping.” He fixed her with a look that took her breath away, his emotion open and vulnerable as they never had been before. “I thought I’d never ask someone to come with me again. But then there I was, begging you to come with me. I needed you then, and I need you now. Every me will _always_ need you.”

 **_He_ ** _doesn’t,_ she said quietly. _The new Doctor. He proved that._

“He does,” he told her. “I was in his head the whole time and every thought, every breath was about _you_. He sees how fantastic you are, how amazing you are. He loves you and because he’s a coward, he ran from it. He was selfish, and thoughtless and a sorry sod to boot, but he does love you. Don’t ever doubt that, Rose.”

 _An’ that makes it OK to treat me like I don’t matter, to hurt me?_ She looked away. _I’ve been there before, Doctor._

“No!” he growled.

_Then what?_

“Don’t think I’m excusin’ what he’s done, Rose. He put his feelings ahead of yours and didn’t care what it would do to you. It was a selfish, vile thing to do and I’ll never let him forget it.” His eyes burned with anger, a hint of the Oncoming Storm in his gaze. “Never.”

 _Then what d’you want me to go back for?_ She looked away. _So he can keep yankin’ me back and forth?_

“No.” His gaze was steady. “I want you to go back for _you,_ so you can live the life you deserve, the life you’re meant for.”

_What life? My only choices are goin’ back to mum’s and workin’ a shop again, or stayin’ with him until he finally decides to chuck me out._

“That’s not your only choice.”

_How d’you figure that?_

“Because you can choose where you go from here.”

_How? I’ve just told you-_

“You could choose to go back to your mum’s,” he cut in. “Not an excitin’ choice, but it’s one choice, true enough. You could work in a shop-” he took a deep breath “-marry some daft bloke and have the white curtains and the picket fence and the whole bit.” His face showed the pain he felt at that particular option. Whether it was because of the life itself, or because she’d be marrying someone else, she didn’t know.

 _I don’t want that life,_ Rose muttered. _I don’t belong there anymore_.

He looked relieved. “No, but it’s still an option.”

 _It’s my_ **_only_ ** _option,_ she growled. 

“Not by a longshot, Rose. Noy by a longshot.” His grin was pure Doctor- a manic, excited grin that made her want to smile in spite of herself.

She didn’t.

 _What other options do I have, then?_ she demanded, tired of his prodding. If he wouldn’t stay there with her, why couldn’t he just leave her alone? _Goin’ back to_ **_him_** _, is that what you’re goin’ to say?_

“Yeah, that’s another option, true enough.” He nodded. 

_What, to let him yank me around again?_

“Never.” His eyes burned her with their intensity. “I’d never send you back to that, Rose.”

She swallowed. She knew he cared, knew he loved her, incredible as it seemed. _Then what?_

“You could go back...on _your_ terms.” 

_How d’you mean?_ She was baffled. 

“I mean you can decide what kind of a relationship, what kind of situation you want, Rose. You decide what you’ll accept from future me.”

_What?_

“Do you want to keep travellin’ on the TARDIS?”

_Well, yeah, but you already know ‘s not possible, he’s goin’ to make me leave._

“He won’t.” He sounded so certain, so sure. “He’ll never make you leave, Rose.”

_But he could leave me behind again._

“He’d have to be dafter than a brain-dead Lereopaen elephant but he could do, yeah.” He looked pained. “An’ that’s why it’s up to you whether you trust him enough to stay. But the point is, Rose, it’s up to you what you want, what you’ll accept from him.” His eyes bored into her. “How much you want to trust him.”

_What?_

“You could go back, and keep it business only. Travelling companions, no more. Friendly, surface level but no more. Trust him just enough enough to let you keep travellin’ with him, look for you if you go missin’ and help you out of a pickle. Your tour guide to the universe, nothing more.”

 _I…_ She didn’t know what to say to that. 

“Or you could be friends. Trust him with a bit more, share with him, let him share with you a bit.”

She swallowed. _Could_ she ever trust the new Doctor enough to be friends? 

“Or...you could be more.”

_He doesn’t want-_

“Say he did, though.” He swallowed, eyes vulnerable. “If he came to you and begged for forgiveness and a chance to prove himself, to earn your trust, would you let him?

 _I...I don’t know._ Her head was spinning and she fiercely tamped down on the foolish ray of hope that had surged at the idea. _I can’t imagine it._

“That’s a choice, too,” he said quietly, his eyes vulnerable, open. “You’d have every right to refuse him after what he did, but it’s still a choice.”

 _I don’t know_ , was all she could say.

“It’s your choice, Rose. Only yours. You decide how much or how little you want to trust the future me. And he’ll accept it, I promise you that.”

_What if he doesn’t?_

He smiled sadly, no doubt knowing just how little she trusted any assurance he tried to make about the future Doctor. “Then he’ll- _I’ll_ take you somewhere new.”

 _Where?_ The cry came from the heart. _Where would I go, Doctor?_

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of an emotion she couldn’t quite fathom. “To Jack,” was all he said.

She gaped at him. 

He tried to smile. “You remember Jack sodding Harkness, don’t you? Irritating house pet we had for a while?” His smile vanished. “Before we lost him.”

She swallowed. _How can you- I thought he was dead!_

“Now where d’ you get a daft idea like that?” He tried to smile. “Told you he was off savin’ the world, didn’t I?”

 _Yeah, but then you never…_ She shook her head in bewilderment. _The other Doctor never talked about him, never went back... I thought he was dead and you didn’t want to tell me._

He gazed steadily at her for a moment. “What else do you remember about the Gamestation?”

She frowned. _Not much, except what you showed me._

“Maybe you should take a closer look at the memories I gave you.””

_What?_

“Close your eyes, Rose, clear your mind, and just...look.” 

_Why?_ The wind suddenly picked up again, blowing madly, the sun appearing and disappearing as the rain stopped and started.

“Humour me.” He smiled crookedly. “Just...look.”

Still not sure what it was all about, she did as he said. She trusted her Doctor, after all. She closed her eyes, tried to focus her confused, terrified mind and sought the memories he’d shared with her. To her surprise, not only were they there, but they came easily to the front of her mind. Somehow, without knowing how she did it, she slowly slowly unpicked them, running through them until she found what she was looking for.

She froze in utter shock, the mindscape freezing with her, eerie in its utter stillness.

_Jack, lying dead._

_Her rage._

_Her power._

_“I bring life.”_

_His eyes opened._

_He breathed._

She wrenched her eyes open. _Oh my God. What did I...how did I…_

“You were the Bad Wolf,” he reminded softly, eyes glowing with pride and awe. “All the power in time and space, and all you wanted was to save my sorry skin and bring Jack back.”

 _I killed the Daleks_ , she said faintly. _I saw when you showed me before._

“You did.” The look of awe intensified. “You ended the Time War, Rose. You saved the universe with that fantastic human courage o’yours.”

She looked down, rough winds buffeting the mindscape, and pockets of mad weather swirling by. _How come I could still see the memories? They’re in your head, not mine._

“Little gift, that.” He grinned. “Livestream, on demand.”

She closed her eyes momentarily, unable to believe he’d shared himself with her like that- his memories of her, his emotions, his vulnerability were _hers_ , and she could call them whenever she needed a reminder that he _loved_ her, that he was proud of her.

“Rose, I...” He trailed off. “Can I see you?” 

She stared stupidly at him. Wasn’t he looking at her now?

He grinned and gave her paw a gentle tug. “Without the fur. Never spent this long talking to a wolf, me- usually they get fed up with the gabbing and run me off. Not big on chit-chat, wolves.”

Unable to help it, she smiled, wondering how it looked on a wolf’s face. _Why am I not surprised?_

“Cause you know me.” His answering smile made her heart pound, reminding her of easier times and holding hands and two grinning fools exploring the universe, one planet at time. “You’ll think I’m daft, but you’re lovely, Rose.”

 _What, even like this?_ She tried to ignore the pleasure his compliments always had.

He didn’t look away. “It’s you.” His look was so intense, so open and undeniably so full of love and affection that she wanted to weep. Why did the only person who looked at her like that, the only person who’d ever loved her like that, have to die? “Wouldn’t mind lookin’ at your face though, mind to mind.” 

_You know that sounds mental, right?_ She didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

He smiled sheepishly. “Always been a bit daft, me.” His smile faded. “Would you, though?”

She hesitated, wondering if she had the courage to peel off this last defence, to show herself to him entirely, in her own mind, with no barriers.

He stood patiently, waiting, his eyes never leaving her. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Rose. I’d never force you, me.”

_But you want me to._

“I do.” His smile was tentative, nervous. “I...you know I’m a telepath, Rose.”

She nodded.

“Telepathy to a Time Lord, is...almost like touch is to you. Seeing you, touching your mind is...it’s special, nigh on sacred. To see you in your own mind, without defences…” He swallowed. “I’ve no right to ask it of you, but I…”

She exhaled in understanding, the rain increasing as her heart broke. How could she refuse, now that she knew what it meant to him, what he was asking of her and what he was offering her? He’d offered to give himself to her entirely, to live in her mind if she wanted to, to erase a part of his own existence. He’d opened himself to her, shared his emotions, his vulnerability…

Did she have the courage to do the same? 

A single, shared moment of almost perfect union, without barriers, between her and the man who loved her, the man _she_ loved. Her Doctor.

How could she refuse?

Taking a deep breath, pushing aside her terror, the voice screaming to stop it, to run and hide, to cloak the entire forest with deepest black and _stay still_ , she looked at him. _How?_

His eyes blazed, and his hands trembled. “Just think it,” he said lowly. “All you have to do is want it.”

She nodded, and forcing back her emotions, the landscape grey and still, she took another deep breath and closed her eyes, willing the change.

A loud exhale made her open her eyes.

“Rose,” he whispered, his eyes searing her soul as he took her hand. 

Blinking down at her hand, she looked up at him in shock. “It worked.”

“Course it did!” He beamed at her, so full of pride and joy that her heart wrenched in her chest and the sun appeared even as the heavens opened with heavy rain. “Brilliant, you are.”

Later, thinking back on it, she’d notice that neither of them was wet.

But there was no time for that now.

He was here.

The Doctor.

 _Her_ Doctor.

“Doctor,” she said softly, unable to believe that he was here and so was she, _properly_ , and that they were touching minds, if nothing else.

“Hello!” He beamed.

She broke.

“Doctor!” Sobbing, she flung herself at him, slinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his beloved leather jacket. 

“Rose,” he whispered, folding her tightly into his arms. It was different, here in her mind- she couldn’t smell him, the way she could in the waking world. She couldn’t feel the stiff leather of his jacket, or the familiar feel of his strong frame. There were none of those physical comforts.

But there was something new, something different, something so wonderful that it beggared description. She was wrapped in his mind, his presence, his very self.

And his love.

And so just for a moment, she let herself feel, let herself forget the pain of betrayal, the pain of neglect, the fear that came with feeling, with baring her emotions, and let herself sink into his wonderful mind, so totally open to her.

She couldn’t say how long they stood there, each revelling in the presence of the other, but after what seemed to be both forever and no time at all, she drew back.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she sniffled.

“Been here for hours, me,” he grinned, blinking away a suspicious moisture in his eyes. “Been talkin’ to you and all! You forgotten already?”

“Git. S’pose you think you’re funny.” She rolled her eyes, the pockets of rain lessening slightly and a small, _very_ small, invigorating breeze began to blow.

Far away, unbeknownst to her, in a grey, tangled clearing, the Tenth Doctor suddenly froze, closing his eyes, and revelling in the breeze.

And her.

“I am funny!” He clung to her hand, swinging it happily between them. “Funniest sod in time and space, me.”

“You wish,” she retorted, smiling in spite of her tears.

“That’s more like it,” he said quietly, gently brushing at her tears with his other hand. “Like to see you smiling, me.”

Her smile faded as reality came crashing back in. “Not a lot to smile about lately.” She exhaled, trying to stop the tears as an enormous storm broke right above them. “Oh. Sorry ‘bout the weather.”

To her surprise, he smiled. “Don’t be. It’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“What?” She frowned at him. “You’re mad, you are.”

“Might be, but that’s got nothing to do with it.” He tugged at her hand, pulling her closer. “It’s honest, Rose. It’s open. You’re letting your emotions show instead of that deathly dark stillness.”

“Oh.” She flushed when she realised just how far she’d strayed from her mantra of self-protection. “So much for stayin’ still.”

“Don’t stay still, Rose.” He tugged her closer still, gently cupping her cheek. “Don’t hide Rose. You’ve a light burnin’ in you that needs to shine.”

“I…” She exhaled, her eyes pleading with him, begging him to understand. “I don’t know if I can do it, Doctor. I don’t know if I can trust him at all, ever again. Even just to lug me around the universe.”

“Then I’ll have him take you to Jack,” he told her.

“You don’t even know where he is!” She frowned. “Does _he_?”

“Doubt it, but the old girl can find him easy enough. An’ it’ll give you time to recover.” He swallowed. “I’ll even make sure he brings your mum on board if you want, while he does.”

“No!” she shouted. “Not mum. Please. I love her, but she’ll just...she’ll just want me to come back to the flat, an’ I can’t...I can’t face that, Doctor. Not now. Not after everything. I don’t…” She swallowed. “I can’t go back to that life, Doctor. I don’t fit anymore.” 

“You fit on the TARDIS,” he said raptly, gaze burning her with its intensity. “You belong there.”

“With you, not with…” She sighed. “Look there’s no point going over it again, is there? You’re gone, he’s there, and you in his head or not, he...well, you know. How can you say I belong there?”

“Because you _do_ ,” he vowed. “More than anyone I’ve ever known. You’ve bonded with my magnificent ship in a way even I can’t. You _belong_ , Rose.”

“But…” The rain poured heavily. “He…”

“Your terms, Rose. You can go back on your terms. I vow I’ll not let him take you out of here, take _us_ out of here, until he’s sworn to accept your choice, whatever it is.”

“But…” She looked at him, her heart breaking anew. “You’re here.”

“And I’ll be there, too,” he swore. “He’s me, Rose, I’m part of him.”

“You couldn’t stop him from leaving me behind, though, could you?” She shook her head. “I’ll bet you were sayin’ all sorts to him and he still ignored it.”

“True enough.” He sighed. “But I’m still there, still part of him.”

“It’s the other part I’m worried about.” She exhaled as the gale blew. “That’s the part he seems to listen to.”

“It’s fear, Rose. Nothin’ good ever comes of lettin’ fear drive you.” His gaze was heavy with meaning.

She wrenched her chin from his hand. “Don’t I have reason to be scared?”

“Course you do.” He gently recaptured her chin. “You’ve every reason to be scared...but that doesn’t mean you’re goin’ to let it bury you alive, does it?”

“I…”

“You have choices, Rose,” he said urgently. “You have choices the minute you wake up on that TARDIS. You can stay with him on your terms, you can leave on your terms, you can go to Jack and keep adventuring with that ridiculous space hopper o’his, or you can go back to your mum. Or you can choose to do something new- travel on earth, study something, do charity work… the world is your oyster, Rose Tyler, and I swear to you here and now I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you get your choice.” He swallowed. “But all that world, all that fantastic universe is out there. Why would you hide in here?”

“I...you’d really do that? Take me anywhere, even if it’s not back to mum’s? Even if he doesn’t want to? How?””

He grinned. “Well for one thing, the TARDIS is fonder of you than she is of me, half the time. I doubt future me will have any luck landing somewhere you don’t want to go. And none of us will give him a moment’s peace if he even thinks about takin’ you somewhere else.”

“ _None_ of you?” She swallowed as the gale died down and the rain stopped. “How many of you _are_ there?”

“Ten, including the daft chipmunk.”

“So you’re...the Ninth?”

“That’s me!” He waved madly with their joined hands. “Hello!”

She stared at him. “But what do the others care? They don’t know me! I’ve never met them!”

“Oh, they care, Rose. They care a lot more than you’d imagine.” He took a deep breath. “Trust me, trust _us_ , and come back, Rose. We’ll respect your choice, whatever it is.”

“I…” She shook her head. “So it’s OK if I just wanted to be travel buddies? Or if I wanted to leave? Or...or married someone else, or went somewhere else or somethin’?”

He swallowed. “If it’s what you wanted, of course.”

“I...what about _you_ , though? Wouldn’t it hurt you?” She searched his eyes anxiously. “This you?”

His blue eyes filled with pain. “If it makes you happy, Rose, if helps you live that fantastic life, it’s done.”

“You mean it?” She breathed, in awe of how _much_ he loved her. “Anything?”

“Anything. Only, I want you to think about something for me.”

She looked at him warily. “What?” 

“Wherever you decide to go, whatever you decide to do...you’ll need to let someone help you with that trauma you’re carrying from your time with that...that _ape_ \- an’ don’t tell me you’re fine on your own,” he added, seeing her about to speak. “You were too scared to seek medical help and you nearly died, Rose.” He barked a laugh. “And here I am trying to convince you to go back to the world of the living. I know future me was a selfish, ungrateful swine and what he did was wrong, but you’re not fine.” He fixed her with a steely blue gaze. “I need you to promise me you’ll think about it- _really_ think about it.”

“I…” She swallowed rapidly, her mind cycling through various thoughts, mirrored in the mindscape, shifting like quicksand. Did he think she was mad? Daft? 

“You’re not mad, Rose,” he told her, as if he knew what she was thinking. “There’s no shame in needing help, in gettin’ treament for your mind or your body. Please.” His gaze was pleading. “Do this one thing for me, Rose.”

“I don’t...” she shook her head bewilderedly. It was all too much.

“Just think about it,” he insisted. “‘S all I’m asking for now. We can talk more about it later.”

“What? How?”

He smiled. “Time Lord, me. And Rose, I know you don’t believe it yet, but I’m _there_ , out in that infirmary, waiting for you to come back to me. _Trust me_.”

She swallowed. Trust. It seemed impossible now, but then, this was _her_ Doctor. The man who’d given his life for her, had come searching for her in her own mind, who had patiently worked through her defenses and let her come to him at her pace.

The man who’d agreed to end his existence (well, _that_ existence) in her mind, if she so decided.

If she was too afraid to go back.

She closed her eyes, exhaling, because really, that was the point, wasn’t it? How could she hold the other Doctor responsible for pushing her away, for _reacting_ instead of acting, for letting his fear drive him, to the detriment of her feelings and his, if she was going to do the same? If she was going to be just as selfish? If she stayed here, she’d be just as bad- letting her fear drive her to waste the chances she had, ignoring what it would do to the people close to her if she never woke up- her mum and Mickey and _her_ Doctor, who, if nothing else, was buried in the head of the new Doctor, watching her every move, worrying, caring, _loving_ her. How could she let his sacrifice go to waste?

She hung her head. 

She couldn’t.

Her heart clenched as she realised that he had never once, that he _would_ never, use his sacrifice to force to go back. He was leaving the choice up to her. She had to decide whether to go or stay, hide or live, exist or _choose,_ let Jimmy keep her in prison or the Doctor let her out. If she stayed here, she’d be proving Jimmy right, letting him win- that she was worthless, that she couldn’t make her own choices, that she didn’t have the _right_ to make her own choices. At least if she went back, she’d have time to decide what to do, to work through the mess in her mind, the mess with the new new Doctor, or leave if she wanted to…But at least she’d be making _her_ choice.

Put like that, there was only one path she could take.

Rose opened her eyes to find him looking patiently at her, his gaze openly affectionate, _loving._

“Well, love?”

Her eyes filled at the emotion she felt emanating from him. “You know.”

“Might do.” He smiled. “Why don’t you say it?”

“I…” She gulped, tears in her eyes and the rain pouring down. “I need to go back.”

“An’ why’s that?” His eyes were burning with pride, pleasure _, love_.

“I have to choose.” She swallowed. “I can’t...can’t blame him for letting his fear drive him if I’m going to the same thing, can I?”

“S’pose not.” His eyes glistened.

“An’ I…” She clenched her jaw steeling herself for the next part. “You died for me. You’re willing to do it again. I...I don’t know what will happen Doctor, what I’ll choose, where I’ll go from here... but I...I can’t waste that.”

“One step at a time, love. Goin’ back is a choice.”

“Yeah.” She gulped. “ I’m scared.”

His gaze burned into her so intensely that she felt as though she’d burst into flame. 

“What?” She looked away for a moment.

“Just wondering how one tiny human can hold so much courage.” He smiled- that small, beautiful smile that was hers alone. 

“What courage?” She gulped, swinging her gaze back to him. “‘M terrified, and I want to stay here with you. So much.”

“I’d give anything to be able to look at you out there with this daft old face.” His eyes were incandescent, and she could _feel_ the strength he was pushing at her. “But I _am_ out there, Rose, waiting for you. Why hide in here when I’m waiting for you out there?”

The mindscape trembled, suddenly buffeted by wind and rain while the sun shone.

“I…” Her face crumpled and she blinked furiously. “I love you.”

His eyes lit with a joy so fierce that the glade seemed to have a light of its own. “An’ I you,” he said lowly, the words sending a thrill through her as his face came closer and closer. “Always will.” And then he kissed her- with his mind, his soul and everything he was and she gave him everything she had and revelled in his nearness, in the feel of his mind and hers.

Finally, what seemed hours later, he drew back and she blinked to see a pair of familiar blue doors.

“Where are we? How did we…?”

“We’re at the edge of your mind, Rose.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ve brought us here, and I...I’ve called him. He’ll be here soon.” He exhaled. “This is as far as I can go, like this.”

His words poured over her like cold water, bursting the brief, beautiful bubble of love and security she’d been wrapped in. Her Doctor was leaving.

And the other Doctor was coming.

She inhaled sharply and clutched her Doctor’s hand all the more tightly, determined to appreciate every last second she had with him. Moments, later, there was a light tread beside them, and a familiar voice that sent the fear spiralling, in spite of her every effort to stay calm.

A voice that reminded her of the betrayal and heartache _fear_ that waited for her outside the walls of her mind.

“Hello, Rose,” the Tenth Doctor said quietly.

A tight squeeze on her hand and a familiar blast of fierce emotion helped her wrestle her panic and dread under control.

She swallowed and gripping that beloved hand tightly, turned to face him. 

“Hello.”


	8. More Than The Sum of Your Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'd promised to go back. But why did it have to be so hard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllooo lovely people! Here we have the next chapter. It's a bit later than usual, but it's been a stinker of a week and I needed a break over the weekend. Also, it's been giving me a LOT of trouble and I still don't know how I feel about it. All hail Rose_Nebula, saecookie, TenRoseForeverandEver, Aintfraidanoghosts and witchy_woman for not letting me delete it, set it on fire or otherwise hurl it into the abyss. I'm still not happy with it but...there it is.You're all wonderful <3
> 
> As always, thanks to Rose_Nebula for her fabulous beta, and her support and listening to me hate this chapter for the last few days and not letting me kill it.
> 
> As always, please be careful of your mental health: **trigger warning: this chapter is much lighter than previous ones, but it still contains doubt, self loathing and mentions of near death.** Please also remember when commenting that there are people reading this who have been or are in similar positions to Rose, and this is a place of love for all.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, or at least don't hate it! All mistakes are mine.

_She swallowed and, gripping that beloved hand tightly, turned to face him._

_“Hello.”_

“Rose.” The current Doctor stood very still. “Are you alright?”

“It’s disturbin’, you know.” The leather Doctor shook his head in disgust. “Watchin’ me morph into Rickey the Idiot before my very eyes.”

In another time, another place, Rose would have laughed at how utterly mental conversations with him always turned. But she couldn’t. Not now, not here. Not like this.

The current Doctor scowled. “It was a fair question, considering the circumstances!”

“With an obvious answer, considerin’ the circumstances!” Her Doctor scowled right back. “Now if you don’t mind puttin’ a lid on the inanities for half a mo, I’ve a few things I need to say before we’re back to the shared living space.”

To her surprise, the current Doctor opened his mouth to speak, stopped and, with a glance at her, nodded tightly. “Fine.”

“Right then. First.” The Northern Doctor squeezed Rose’s hand tightly. “Rose chooses where she goes from here.”

“What-”

“What nothin’, I’m tellin’ you what’s goin’ to happen. That’s all you need to know, just now.” He fixed his future self with a steely blue-eyed look. “You’ll know the rest when we merge, but for now, all you need to know is that Rose decides. Understood?”

“How can I agree without even knowing-”

“Did I say you had a choice?” The Ninth Doctor scowled. “I may not be able to power the motor functions on the lead pencil we are now, but let me tell you.” He glared. “Every last one of us will disrupt your neurons so much you’ll be a quivering heap on the ground. Like to see how you’ll manage to form a single thought then.”

“What in the- Rose, you can’t think I’d-”

“Save it, I’ve told you all you need to know. Rose. Will. Choose. Understand? Or else I might just find me other accommodations.” He glared. “We both will. Rose is coming back on the understanding that whatever she does from here on out is her choice, not yours. I promised her, and unlike some, I keep my promises.”

There was silence.

“Fine,” the pinstriped Doctor growled between clenched teeth. “So be it.”

“You’d best keep your word.” The Norther Doctor smiled mirthlessly. “Or else the TARDIS might do it for you. An’ if you stopped to think for half a mo instead of running, you’d understand why.”

“Yes, alright,” the current Doctor seethed. “What else?”

The Ninth Doctor took a deep breath and looked at Rose, eyes churning with so many emotions- and she could read them all now. Longing. Anger. Fear. Love. And what looked suspiciously like satisfaction.

“You’re not gettin’ all my memories.”

“What?” the pinstriped Doctor stared. “You know that as soon as we merge, I’ll get them.”

“No you won’t.” Her Doctor smiled grimly. “Leastways, not straightaway. I’ve suppressed them and you won’t get them until Rose says the trigger phrase. Oh, don’t look so surprised.” He raised an eyebrow at the other man’s dumbfounded expression. “Won’t be the first time we’ve done it, after all.”

“Yes, for memories we’ve made during our _own_ lifetime!” The pinstriped Doctor growled. "This is the first time we’ve had the temerity to withhold memories from the current incarnation made during _his_ own lifetime!”

“Well, these weren’t made during your lifetime, they were made during mine,” her Northern Doctor snapped. “You just happened to be alive at the same time. But make no mistake, these are _my_ memories, and you’ll get exactly what I say you get, when I say so and if you don’t like it, tough!” He fixed the other man with a level gaze. “You won’t even know what to look for and the moment we merge, you’ll never see them until I say it’s time.”

Rose turned to him, eyes wide. “You can do that?”

“I can, and did.” Her Doctor’s burning blue gaze softened when he turned to her. “I’ve done it enough times when run I’ve into meself in the past, other versions of me and so on, and had to hide the memories until I was allowed to know about it.”

“But you did it now?” She held her breath, unable to fathom why he’d go to such trouble. “Why?”

“Because you deserve to have control over what you share and with whom,” he said quietly. “He’ll know enough of what happened to make sure he keeps our promise about your choices, and make sure he takes you to see someone for what we’ve talked about. But he won’t _see_ it.” He’d scowled and turned back to the other man. “He doesn’t deserve to see it, not all of it, anyway, and until _you_ think he does, he won’t.”

Rose nodded slowly, understanding the gift he was giving her.

Control over what was hers.

He was giving her the power over even his own self, when it came to her history, her secrets and her feelings.

And the total sharing of self, they’d exchanged…

Her Doctor had caught her eye, seemingly knowing what she was thinking. “He doesn’t deserve it,” he’d repeated. “And he won’t get it until you think he does. _If_ you think he does.”

To her surprise, the pinstriped Doctor had only looked between them, eyes flashing for a moment, before his expression had stilled.

“Right,” was all he said, a muscle flickering in his jaw. “I...Rose, is that what you want?”

She’d nodded slowly, carefully, almost afraid of how he’d respond. Would he be angry? Insulted? Would he care at all?

“Right,” he exhaled. “Then...that’s what we’ll do.”

Eyes wide with surprise, she managed to nod, before turning back to her Doctor.

“What... how does it work?”

He smiled at her, and the daft, crooked smile that she’d missed for so long made her heart ache with love and grief. “I’ll tell you the trigger phrase, and you don’t say it to him until you’re ready for him to know.” He caressed her face with his free hand. “Alright?”

She nodded, feeling as though she were drawing closer and closer to her own funeral.

“Ready?”

Another nod, wondering if he, if _they_ could hear her heartbeat as loudly as she could.

Unbeknownst to her (and to his utter shock), a seamless stone wall had suddenly appeared between them and the current Doctor, stretching high up.

She didn’t see it, or the shock on his face. She didn’t see the stars that brilliantly lit the night sky, or the sunlight that was creeping on the horizon.

All she could see, all she could feel was _him._

Her Doctor. 

She closed her eyes as he drew her close and touched his forehead to hers. Clinging to him, she revelled in his presence and opened herself entirely to him one last time as he gently touched her innermost mind in a loving, gentle caress that made her want to weep.

“If you want him to know what you’ve told me, tell him, _I trust you._ ”

She nodded, her arms clasped so tightly about his neck she wondered if they’d ever be able to separate their minds again.

“An’ if you want him to see everything we’ve shared, if you decide you can trust him with more, with your whole self…”

She suppressed a sob, certain that day would never come and that the only man she could ever say that to was here, in her mind, firmly entwined in her every thought.

And he was dead.

_“I am the Bad Wolf.”_

She jumped, her eyes flying open at the silent thought he’d pushed into her mind, stored snugly with the other memories he’d given her.

“Why that?” She blinked away tears. “Why those words?”

“Think you know,” he smiled, repeating her own words back to her.

And she did. He’d tied her power, her control of her mind, her _life_ , her relationship with the Doctor, to the admission of who she could be, who he saw her as.

Who she was.

She closed her eyes momentarily. 

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? She _was_ the Bad Wolf, there was no getting round it. What she’d done, what she’d _become_ \- there was no going back. She was linked to the TARDIS (and maybe the Doctor too but she refused to think about that now) with unbreakable, irrevocable ties. It likely had consequences she’d never considered. And whatever she chose to do going forward- whether it was staying on the TARDIS in any capacity, choosing to find and stay with Jack, going off for an adventure of her own, or going home to her mum- she’d never escape it. She was the Bad Wolf. There was no undoing what was done, what she _was_.

But even now...she swallowed, clinging to him all the more tightly, even now he was giving her the choice. To accept who and what she was, or to hide from it all her days...it was all up to her. And it was her admission, her acceptance of that burden, that life and that gift, that would free those secret, most intimate memories for the Doctor, that would enable them to have, to _be_ what she’d once yearned for, to be _more,_ to be together (she pushed away that thought). Anything they had could only be based on trust, and her Doctor had just enabled _her_ to decide if and when that took place. She could trust him with enough for a shallow friendship, a companionship of her choice, or a true deep, friendship. 

Or more.

Her verbal acceptance of herself was tied, now, inextricably, to her acceptance of her place on the TARDIS and her acceptance, of her _trust_ , with the Doctor.

“He can’t hear this, can he?”She could have looked over to the other man, but she didn’t want to look away from her Doctor, didn’t want to miss a single moment with him.

“Nope.” Her Doctor beamed. “Thanks to you.”

“Me?” She gaped. “What you talkin’ about?”

He shook his head, eyes soft, as he gestured with his free arm, the other wrapped tightly around her waist. “Look.”

She saw, for the first time, a towering wall of solid rock that appeared to have sprung up out of thin air. “Oh! Where did that...That wasn’t you?”

“Nope, all you. You wanted hush, Rose and your mind gave you hush.” His smile made her heart pound. “Fantastic, you are.”

She swallowed, looking suspiciously at the wall. “But I didn’t mean to...I mean, I wanted...I didn’t want him to hear, but I didn’t even try to do anythin’...don’t think I even know _how_ to do it!”

“Told you Rose, all you need to do is will it. And you did.”

“Right... is that even enough to keep him out?” She turned back to him. “I mean, he could get past that if he wanted to, couldn’t he?”

“Course he could. I’m a Time Lord, Rose- Academy trained telepath, me.”

“So how do I know he didn’t hear us?”

“Because he’d have had to tear it down to hear us, an’ he wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

He looked horrified at the thought. “It’s a high crime, Rose! To go tearin’ through someone’s mindscape like that, stripping away their defences...it’s the worst kind of violation. Even entering someone’s mind without their permission…” He cupped her chin in his hand. “I’d never have done it if you hadn’t been in danger, Rose, never.”

She stared at him, suddenly understanding the restraint he, and the current Doctor for that matter, had exercised in looking for her, calling for her, and even _asking_ her to change back. “You could have found me anytime, couldn’t you? An’ you could have made me change back from the wolf.”

“I’d never! Never, Rose!” His gaze burned.

“But you could have. I mean, you know how?”

“I…” he swallowed, eyes burning blue fire. “I have the ability, yeah. But Rose, I’d never...I’d never tear up your mind like that, or force you to…”

“I know,” she cut in, soothing him. “You didn’t make me do anything, Doctor. I came out because I wanted to, I changed because I wanted to, an’ I shared myself with you because I wanted to. But I just...I never really…” She shook her head. “You had the power here, Doctor and you gave it to me.”

“Power over yourself, over your own mind is always yours, Rose. Always.” His eyes burned, seeming to flicker in the darkness.

Something else struck her. “All the time I was travellin’ with you, you could have come in, could’ve done that if you’d wanted to.”

“Yes, but I-”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she cut in. “But you could if you wanted to. Which means…” She swallowed, struck by the enormity of the revelation. “He could have. If he wanted to.”

“I’d never.” His voice was low, fierce. “Not any me, Rose. _Never._ ”

“Yeah. I just…” She shook her head. “I forget, sometimes, how powerful you are. How much _more_ you are.” She looked down. “An’ I…”

“Don’t.” He gently nudged her chin up so that she looked at him again. “You’re so much more than you know, Rose. So much bigger than you give yourself credit for, remember that. Two can play at that game you know. I’m just a reject- an outcast. My own people didn’t want me.”

“They didn’t?”

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve been an outcast- too interfering, too emotional, too undignified. An’ now? I’m a broken old TIme Lord without a home. I killed my own people an’ my punishment is to keep on while they’re all gone, having done what I did. How’s that for _bigger?”_

“You’re more than that Doctor!” she took his face in both hands. “You...you’re so much more than whatever you’ve done- whatever has been done to you, and forced on you!!”

“Exactly!” He smiled sadly. “An’ so are you, Rose! So are you.”

She froze, the meaning of her own words and his, hitting home.

She was more than all the bad that had happened to her.

His gaze was intense and soft at the same time. “I know it’s hard to believe now, and your brain is tellin’ you the exact opposite of what I’m sayin’ Rose, but trust me- you’re more than you think you are, more than the sum of your scars. An’ I’m goin’ to be there, watching and hoping that you’ll see that, that with time and work, you’ll see what I do.”

She didn’t know what to say, and was desperate to both look away and keep her gaze on him forever.

“But for now, there’s something I want you to keep in mind, something important I need you to remember. Can you do that?”

She swallowed, forcing the words out. “What...what is it?”

“Just this. Whatever I've been and done, whatever you think I am....” His eyes blazed, burning her soul. “What I am, Rose, is yours. Always.”

At the corner of her eye, she saw the sun come, burning merrily in the blue sky, the grey forest suddenly green and teeming with life.

For a moment. 

Then it was all gone, and the patchy grey sky and moments of sunlight had returned.

“Rose,” he said quietly, eyes shining. “Don’t ever forget that, hold it in here-” and here he gently laid a hand on her heart- “and remember that when the darkness comes. You were meant for more than the darkness, Rose.”

“Sometimes it feels like that’s all there is left for me,” she whispered. “It all becomes so much and I’m so tired of fallin’ and breakin’ and the darkness lets me hide.”

“You’re made for more than hidin’, Rose,” he told her, gently pressing his lips to hers, giving her another agonizingly beautiful taste of his undefended mind. “You’re made for more than darkness. You’re made for light, you are.” He swallowed. “You’re my light in the darkness, have been since the day I met you.”

“It was night,” she whispered, trying desperately to hold onto this moment, onto his strength and his belief in her.

“Oi, there you go pickin’ on me spotty memory again! I’m old, me.”

She sobbed a desperate laugh, rehashing an old argument. “You’re not old.”

“Ah, Rose.” He cupped her cheek. “I am old. S’why I wanted to...well at least _look_ younger.”

“I don’t care.” She turned her face into his hand. “You’re perfect the way you are.” She sniffed. “I missed you so much an’ I’m going to miss you again.”

“Now why would you do that when I’m right there, waitin’?”

“‘S not the same, an’ you know it.”

“Maybe I don’t look the same. But Rose, it’s still me.” He smiled sadly. “I didn’t get to spend nearly as much time with you as I wanted, as this me. But I’m still a lucky sod because that daft nutter out there is still me, an’ I’m hoping you might stay a while longer with me yet. Whatever you decide though, know that out there in time and space is a lonely old Time Lord who’ll love you until his last breath.”

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his for a moment, revelling in his nearness, his love and his firm belief in her, letting them soothe her wounded soul before, finally, pulling back.

“It’s time to go, isn’t it?” She said, her voice breaking, the mindscape suddenly pouring with rain. “You have to go.”

“I won’t be far, me.” He smiled. “The daft chipmunk outside’ll tell you- I haven’t given him a moment’s peace. I won’t leave you, and remember- it’s your choice. From here on out, wherever you go, whatever you do, it’s your choice. You have our word.” His smile faded. “All of us. Even those who’ve passed beyond the memory barrier. You’ll not be forced or abandoned by the Doctor again, no matter what.”

She nodded, trying to gather the will to go back, to hear and accept what he was saying. But she couldn’t. Not when she was going to lose him again.

“You won’t lose me,” he whispered, somehow knowing what she was thinking. “But we need to go back because I’m waitin’ and I’m an impatient sod, me.” 

Her laugh sounded like a sob as the rain poured. “I know. But it’s hard to say goodbye.”

“Ah, but we’re not sayin’ goodbye, Rose.” He kissed her again, the feel of his mind against hers both thrilling and tragic all at once. 

Kissing him one last time, she drew back, hands held tightly to his as she did what he said and _willed_ the wall to vanish.

Moments later, they were faced with the stunned face of the current Doctor, agog with shock.

“Rose...how did you-”

“Later,” her Doctor cut in, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. “No time for that now.” He inhaled before turning to face his current incarnation. “It’s time.”

The current Doctor tensed. “Are...Rose, are you-”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I think it’s time. Can’t go hidin’ in here anymore.”

Even though she’d give anything to do just that. 

Her Doctor smiled, his eyes filled with pride and sorrow as he looked at her one last time.

The current Doctor cleared his throat. “Nothing...nothing else?”

“Didn’t say that.” Her Doctor glared as he turned to face his future self. “I’ve got more than a word or two to say to you, thanks very much and you’ll be hearin’ plenty of them.”

“Right.” The pinstriped Doctor rolled his eyes. “Course I will. Haven’t managed to stop you yet, dunno why I thought I could stop you now.”

The other man’s eyes blazed. “I’ve not even started, boy.”

“I’m older than you!”

“Couldn’t tell it to look at the mess you’ve made of things.”

“Oh, honestly,” the pinstriped Doctor huffed. “Are we going to stand here exchanging insults or are we actually going to get a wriggle on?”

The Northern Doctor shot him a look of pure disgust. _“Wriggle on?_ Oh, that’s just embarssin’, that is. Alright!” he snapped, seeing the other man open his mouth. “Alright. No more arguin.” Taking a deep breath, he turned to Rose. “Remember what I said, Rose. And remember your promise.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak while the mindscape continued to pour with rain.

“Good.” He nodded. “Remember what I am, Rose. And what you are.” His blue eyes glistened. “Remember I’ll still be right here, waitin’.” He glared at his other self. “Just looking like a glorified paperclip instead of daft old me.”

“Oi!” 

He ignored the protest of his other self and kept his gaze trained on her as he finally, reluctantly dropped her hands. “You’re more than the sum of your scars, Rose,” he said softly, ignoring the other man’s flinch. “You’re _fantastic.”_

And what that, the two Doctors blurred and he was gone.

Her heart tore with grief as she lost him again- her Doctor, the man who loved her, and she was unable to help the sob that escaped as the current Doctor bent double for a moment.

Clenching her teeth, she forced her grief deep inside, viciously pushing it back as the rain stopped and the mindscape grew grey and dark once more. Steeling herself, she turned to look at the pinstriped Doctor, who was slowly straightening as though he carried a heavy load.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes on him, keeping the staggering grief and fear and worry at bay, she waited, her hands clenched together.

Finally, he turned to her. “Rose.” He swallowed. “Rose...I….” He shook his head, his eyes haunted and heavy, with none of his usual arrogance or flare or cheekiness. He looked old, grieved and beaten, and she briefly wondered what on earth her Doctor had said to cause that kind of response, before forcing the thought from her mind.

She couldn’t think about her Doctor now. It was too much.

He stood gazing at her, something almost familiar in his gaze before he shook his head and sighed. “Are you ready?” He said softly, tentatively, with no sign of his usual bluster.

“S’pose so,” she said quietly, ignoring the screaming voice that told her to hide, to run away until he couldn’t find her, to beg for her Doctor to come back.

She’d promised him. Her Doctor.

“Right.” Swallowing, the haunted-looking Doctor slowly held out his hand. 

Staring at it, she swallowed her fear and her terror, telling herself the choice was hers, she was going back to make her choice, to stop letting people do things _to_ her, and she’d have to trust him to some extent to do it. 

And her Doctor was in there, watching. Helping. He’d promised her.

And she’d promised him.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly took the Doctor’s hand.

And they were gone.

_____________________________________________________

_The Infirmary_

Rose came back to herself with gasp. 

Her eyes were still closed, but suddenly, she was _there_ in a way she hadn’t been before. She was aware of her surroundings, could hear the beep of the machinery, could smell the sterile air of the infirmary...and the familiar scent of the man sitting on the bed beside her.

And her Doctor was gone.

She swallowed, heart spasming in grief, and tried desperately to cling to her last moments in the mindscape, her last moments with _her_ Doctor, replaying them over and over in her mind. 

“Rose.”

She inhaled at the sound of that voice, clutching her blankets tightly. It brought it all back- the pain, the shame, her fear and terror, the feeling of worthlessness and misery she felt as though she’d carried forever. She didn’t know if she could face him now, after everything.

“Rose, please, I need you to open your eyes.”

Was just her imagination or did he sound different, somehow? Quieter, more deflated- almost defeated.

But why?

“Rose, please.”

She supposed she couldn’t avoid it _\- or him-_ forever and she’d have to see and talk to him sometime. Exhaling, she slowly opened her eyes to find a heavy-eyed Doctor with wild hair and dark circles under his eyes, nothing like his usual ebullient self.

She held her breath. In that moment, he looked more like his previous self than he ever had, carrying the weight of the universe when he thought no one was looking.

“Welcome back,” he said quietly, shifting back a little. “I...is it alright if I sit here? I need to check a few things and-” he exhaled “-I’m a bit tired. Need a minute.”

She nodded, unable to find any words.

Whipping out the sonic screwdriver, he fiddled with the settings and held it up. “I need you to follow the light as far as you can.”

Nodding, she followed the dimmer than usual light as he slowly pulled it this way and that.

“Good. Any pain?”

She shook her head.

“Sore?”

Another nod.

“That’s not surprising.” He bit his lower lip and exhaled. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

She opened her mouth, but her throat didn’t seem to work. She swallowed, and tried again. “Before...my mind?” She whispered. Why was her throat so sore?

His lips formed a tense line for a moment. “Do you remember everything that happened there? Right until we came back?”

She nodded, wondering what he knew, how much he knew. What her Doctor had shared with him.

“What’s the last thing that happened before that?”

She frowned. “The race on Mars,” she rasped. “An’ then...was sick.”

“You tried to... clean your wound,” he said quietly.

She nodded, looking away.

“And then? Do you remember anything after that?”

“Woke up in the middle of the night, felt sick,” she croaked. “Dizzy, nauseous. Tried to get some water from the bathroom. Don’t remember after that.”

“You’ve about got it all, then,” he said, giving her a quick, forced smile. “Good sign. No vision loss, no apparent loss of memory, no pain, cooking with gas..” He glanced away. “It’s been two days since our trip to Mars, but you weren't...awake for most of it.” Glancing at the machines on the side, he exhaled in relief. “Vitals are fine, if still a bit weak. No lasting damage sustained.”

She nodded uncertainly, not ready to deal with had happened and what had _nearly_ happened.

“Why...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Why does my throat hurt so much?”

He turned to fiddle with the heart monitor. “Artificial respiration. Leaves after effects for a day or two.”

She blinked.

“I had to put a breathing tube down your throat.”

“I know, but I...couldn’t breathe?” She rasped. “How come?”

“You went into septic shock,” he said, turning to face her, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn’t name. “You almost- it was a close thing.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, taking a closer look at him. He looked beaten and weary, almost despairing, and utterly exhausted. “You look tired,” she said without thinking, and kicked herself. 

He didn’t want her care.

He tried to smile, failing miserably. “Haven’t had a close call like that in, well, a long time. Septic shock is pretty hairy, and afterwards well... And then, well, I haven’t used telepathy on anywhere near that kind of level for a few hundred years.” He exhaled. “Bit out of practice.”

Her. He was so exhausted because of her. He’d spent hours healing and watching her, and then spent even longer in her mind. Why had he? That was what she kept asking herself. Why? Was it her Doctor was in his head?

“I’m...I’m sorry,” she whispered, guilt roiling in her stomach. It was because of her that this had happened after all. If she hadn’t gotten scratched, if her scratch hadn’t gotten infected, if she hadn’t been so in love with him that he’d had to push her away, maybe then she could have…

But he was the one who’d pushed her away, wasn’t he? He was the one who’d made her feel like she didn’t matter. That wasn’t her fault...was it?

She shook her head, trying to clear it, unable to work through the dark tangle in her mind. What was wrong with her?

“Rose?”

She blinked away her thoughts, looking warily at the exhausted Time Lord in front of her. 

“I’m not.”

“Not what?” she whispered, looking away, unable to keep his gaze for long.

“Not sorry.” He shifted, drawing her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Rose, sorry you nearly…” he swallowed. “I’m sorry that...but never sorry for...this.” He waved his hand at the various machines. “Nor for going to find you, or going to bring you out. Never that.”

“I caused a big fuss,” she said quietly.

His hand fluttered towards her before falling back to the bed. “I don’t care. I’d have done more if it meant I could… that you’d be alright.”

Oh God. He felt _sorry_ for her.

She stared at the blanket, shame burning in her gut.

He felt sorry for her, and maybe she could take his indifference, even his rejection but never his pity. 

“Rose.” He fixed her with a gaze that felt all too familiar, only it was brown instead of blue. “I’d never have let you die.”

She nodded jerkily, staring fixedly at her blanket. She didn’t know how to respond, how to think, how to _feel_ because the hated voice in her head was saying one thing, and the memory of her Doctor another, and she was tired and confused and didn’t know what she thought anymore.

“I don’t…” He took a deep breath. “We need to talk, Rose. But not...not now. You need to rest, now. Your body and your mind have been through a heck of an ordeal and they need to rest.” He stood, carefully, slowly and disconnected the IV. “Best we get some fluids into you- clear soup is the thing.” Turning to walk away, he paused. “D’you....do you feel up to walking to the loo? If you do, you might want to remove the catheter replacement kit.” Slipping a small remote from a nearby table, he handed it to her. “Just push this button and it will remove itself.”

“Oh.” She blushed furiously. “It’s...did you…?”

“It’s self-inserting,” he said, gripping the nearby table. “But even if...you know I’d never...I’d only have...for medical reasons Rose. You know I’d never…”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, all too aware of just how much he didn’t want her that way. “‘S fine. Thank you. For...lookin’ after me.”

“Rose.” He stood closeby, his eyes intent. “I’d have done anything to save you, but I’d never violate your privacy. I’d never force you… in any way. You understand?”

“I know,” she rasped. “The first you told me.”

He smiled sadly. “Yes, I did,” he said quietly. “And I meant it.” He fixed her with a serious gaze. “All of it. The choice is yours, Rose.”

“I don’t…” She shook her head, unable to articulate her thoughts, let alone make life-altering decisions.

“Call me crazy, but I reckon it’s not the best time to be deciding anything after you’ve come out of a coma.” He shook his head. “Even I’m not that daft. Just...take your time and when you’re ready, when you want to, the decision is yours.” He swallowed. “I hope...that is, I hope we can talk before that. But for now, bit of food and some sleep- some real sleep- are the order of the day.”

She nodded, deliberately tamping down on her emotions.

Seeing her discomfort, he turned to go. “Right, I need to see a man about some soup.” He tried to smile, failing miserably. “Shall I send Mickey in to keep you company?”

She shook her head jerkily. “No...I...my head.”

“Telepathy can cause some of the biggest head throbs imaginable,” was all he said. “Especially if you’re not used to it. Best get some rest.”

And with that, he was gone.

Rose exhaled. She’d done it- she’d come back and it was...easy and difficult all at once, battling guilt and anger and _grief_ and terror.

But she’d come back, as she’d promised her Doctor.

She swallowed.

Now what?


	9. Cracks in the Facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose starts to deal with the consequences of coming back...both physically _and_ mentally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello shiny people! Here is the next chapter of our fic. Again, it's a bit later than my usual but it's not been an easy week OR weekend. I'm still dithering about this chapter and once more, I've had to rely on kicks up the bum from the lovely Rose_Nebula, isolus-girl, saecookie, chocolatequeen, witchy_woman and aintafraidnanoghosts to actually stop hating it and start posting this chapter, LOL. thanks ladies <3 <3 <3  
> Thanks to Rose_Nebula for the beta and your endless patience with my complaints >3 Thanks also to all the wonderful people who continue to leave comments week after week- the last month or so hasn't been easy, and your continued engagement and encouragement with this story has helped me to keep posting each week. You're all fabulous <3 <3 <3
> 
> Ahem. So, on with the show. **Trigger warning: Reference to and the occurrence of a panic attack in this chapter, mentions of previous medical emergency, mentions of grief, trauma triggers and self-loathing.**
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

“Rose!”

Startled out of her half-dose, Rose blinked at the oncoming, human-shaped missile, belatedly remembering that she’d told the Doctor he could let Mickey in...an hour ago? A few minutes ago? Her head was so foggy and it was hard to say.

“‘Lo Micks,” she rasped, her voice still not quite her own. 

“Are you OK? The Doctor said you was awake. Why d’you sound like that? Are you still sick? Does it hurt?”

She blinked at the barrage of questions, head throbbing. “I..” She shook her head slightly, trying to focus through the lingering fog, and tried again. “‘M ok.”

“Are you sure?” he demanded. “Then why d’you sound like that? All raspy?” He turned to the Time Lord lingering in the doorway. “Why does she sound like that? You said she was alright!”

The Doctor glared. “I also told you to keep it quiet, Mickey. If you can’t keep it down, you’re out.” With a sideways glance at Rose, the Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets. “As for the other- it’s quite common to sustain lingering inflammation for a day or two after extubation. Luckily, there’s no post-extubation stridor- narrowing of the breathing passage,” he added, seeing Mickey’s baffled look. “It can happen sometimes, although it generally doesn’t pose much of a problem if you’ve got some good steroids…” He trailed off. “She’s fine.”

“Right.” Mickey exhaled and visibly tried to calm himself, taking the chair next to her bed. “I...so you’re alright? Really alright?”

Rose didn’t know how to answer that, because she was very far from OK- things were not OK, her situation on the TARDIS wasn’t OK, and really, _nothing_ was OK. But she couldn’t even say that to Mickey. It was private, very private, between her and her Doctor (and maybe the other Doctor, too, in a way), and definitely _not_ Mickey’s business. Because no matter how sorry Mickey was _now_ , she couldn’t forget that not too long ago, his own ego had been more important to him than worrying about hurting her feelings. He’d been far too happy to rub things in her face out of his jealousy for her to trust him now. 

“I...yeah the Doctor says ’m gonna be OK,” she said finally. “I...he got to it quick enough.”

“You still need time to recover, though,” the Doctor added pointedly from his place near the doorway. “Sepsis is a serious business, and septic shock takes a heck of a toll on a body. Which is why,” he raised an eyebrow at Mickey from behind his glasses, “you’re not to go stressing Rose. She needs peace and quiet to recover.”

“Alright,” Mickey grumbled, shifting in his chair. “I get the point.”

“See that you do. Or you’re out.” The Doctor folded his arms, looking scarily like her own Doctor for a moment. 

She pushed that thought firmly away, unable to deal with it just now. Not after everything that had happened, and losing her Doctor again.

It was too much.

“Right.” The Doctor turned to Rose, his half-scowl vanishing, and leaving behind the tired, worried, heavy expression he’d worn since she’d woken up. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll be just outside Rose, if you need me.”

She nodded, looking away, unable to look him in the eye and see the mysterious seething emotions she couldn’t fathom and couldn’t deal with just now. She didn’t want his pity, and couldn’t bear it if he pretended to care for her out of some misguided sense of responsibility and obligation foisted on him by her own Doctor. She didn’t want _anybody’s_ pity- she felt ashamed of herself enough as it was.

After a heavy silence, he exhaled and turned to leave, leaving the door open behind him.

Unconsciously mimicking him, she exhaled, looking at her fingers aimlessly twisting the covers, noting absently that someone (most likely the TARDIS) had switched the sterile standard medical-issue blankets for her favourite blue blanket.

“Why, Rose?” Mickey broke the silence, his voice quiet, plaintive and utterly unlike him. “The Doctor said...you was…” He swallowed. “Rose, why didn’t you..you nearly died Rose!”

What could she say to that? 

“I...I had reasons that made sense at the time,” she said finally.

“What reasons?” Mickey stared at her. “What reasons could make enough sense for you to die for?”

She sighed. “Look, Micks, I’m sorry for worryin’ you, OK? But I’m not...I can’t talk about this now.”

He looked hurt. “Rose, is this because...I said I was sorry!”

“I know,” was all she said, all she _trusted_ herself to say. Because how could she tell him that sorry wasn’t enough? Because in the end, Jimmy had said he was sorry, and the Doctor was sorry and Mickey was sorry, but in the end, they’d hurt her because they thought their own feelings were more important than hers. Worse still, Jimmy had just gone back and done it again and again, as though his ‘apology’ had wiped the slate clean. And right now, she didn’t know how she felt about anything or anyone except that she couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ allow herself to be hurt again by putting her feelings second, just to make someone feel better because they felt bad for hurting her.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Was Mickey actually sorry for hurting her, for demolishing her already nonexistent self-esteem? Or was he only saying sorry because he felt guilty that she was upset, with no idea why or the impact of his words and actions- not just now, but even before, like in Cardiff?

She was so tired of people being sorry without having a clue what they’d done, of how much it had hurt and why, of people apologising because really, in the end, they didn’t like feeling like they’d done something bad. 

She was tired of trying to work out how she felt about things, and people, and what she was supposed to do, where she was supposed to go from here. She was tired of the noise and blame and terror and guilt and misery and _rejection_ in her own head, and trying to turn it off, to calm it down so she could be _normal_ , so she could function.

She was just _tired._

“Rose?”

Hating herself for the hurt in Mickey’s voice, and hating herself for the guilt it evoked, she shook her head and turned to stare at one of the many monitors the Doctor had set up.

“I can’t,” was all she said. “‘M sorry but I can’t do this now.”

“Rose…”

“I can’t,” she repeated, clinging to the memory of her Doctor giving her the choice, reminding her control over her own mind was _hers_. If she couldn’t be forced to share things with the Doctor if and before she was ready, she sure as hell wouldn’t be forced to share them with Mickey. “Stop askin’ Mickey, just please, stop askin’!”

“Alright, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, but Rose, you don’t understand! One minute you was fine and then the next minute this alarm was soundin’ and you was lyin’ on the floor, and then…” He swallowed. “You nearly died, Rose, would have died if the Doctor didn’t do his space magic voodoo!”

She blinked in surprise and turned to face Mickey again. “What space magic?”

“He stopped time, Rose!” Mickey shuddered. “Or slowed it or... I dunno, he did something! One minute all these alarms were goin’ off and you were...and he was…” Mickey swallowed. “He said you were crashin’, in some kind of shock and your body was...you were…” Another swallow. “He said we needed time, an’ then...I... next minute everything was changed!”

Rose stared, her earlier agitation momentarily forgotten. “What you mean?”

“I mean it _changed_ , Rose!” Mickey waved his arms wildly. “One minute everything was goin’ off and next minute everything was calm and there was this...tube down your throat and machines and…” Mickey trailed off and swallowed. “He did somethin’ Rose. between one breath and the next, he did something, an’ when I asked him, he just turned on me and said somethin’ barmy ‘bout bein’ a _Time Lord._ ” He exhaled. “I know he’s an alien an’ all, you know? But I never really...not until then. He...I was scared of him, Rose. What he could do, what I knew he _would_ do if he couldn’t save you.”

She swallowed, utterly shocked at the thought of the Doctor interfering with time, somehow, for _her._

Why?

He never interfered with the flow of time, and told people off for even suggesting it! He’d certainly never done it as far as she’d seen, even when it would have gotten them out of many a tight spot. So why would he break one of his own rules for _her_ ? He didn’t care about her, not enough to do _that_. She knew that. So why? Was it because of her own Doctor, shouting in his head? Had her own Doctor taken over somehow and done it? But no, if he’d been able to do that, he’d never have left her on the space station. So why? What was she worth to him that he’d do for her what he’d not even done for Madame de Pompadour?

It was too much just now- the thoughts swirling in her head, the questions, the doubts, the fears, the tiny shred of hope that she refused to consider... It was all too much and deep down was a driving fear and certainty that she couldn’t allow herself to be hurt again. 

She _couldn’t._

Her breathing hitched, and started coming in short gasps, sweat suddenly pouring down her face and streaming down her back. Her hands were clammy and her chest felt tight and suddenly hurt, her heart _hurt_ and oh, God was she going to die? Was this is, after everything, after she’d…

A shrill alarm sounded and then there were footsteps and suddenly the Doctor was there, frantically checking machines.

“Rose,” he said urgently, “what is it?”

“My chest,” she wheezed, clutching at it, vaguely aware of the Doctor pushing a frozen Mickey out of the way. “My heart…”

The Doctor glanced sharply at the heart monitor before exhaling in what sounded like relief. “You’re having a panic attack, Rose,” he said softly, dropping into the chair beside her and taking her hand. “It’s not your heart.”

“But it hurts!” she gasped, certain that he was wrong, that she was having a heart attack, that in spite of what she said there had been damage and she was going to die and he was trying to make her feel better…

“Breathe Rose, I need you to breathe,” he said urgently. “Follow my breathing.” He breathed slowly in, pausing, before breathing slowly and evenly out. 

“I can’t!” She gasped. “Can’t breathe.”

“You can do it, Rose,” he said, his voice quiet and certain. “I need you to follow me. Follow me, Rose, with me! Iiiiin-” He inhaled. “-and hold-” He paused. “And ouuuuut.”

She tried, gasping, but it didn’t help, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t _breathe_ , she was going to-

“Rose!” The Doctor broke into her thoughts, squeezing her hand slightly. “I need you to stay with me, Rose, focus on my breathing.”

She tried, desperately, to mimic his breathing, but it didn’t seem to work. 

“That’s it Rose, again! Slowly! In, hold, out!” He breathed as he spoke, setting the pattern, urging her to follow. “That’s it! You’ve got it! Again!”

She clutched his hand, desperately trying again and again to copy his rhythm, feeling as though her heart would give out at any moment, until, at last, her chest slowly began to loosen and the pain began to recede.

“That’s it, Rose,” he encouraged. “That’s it! Again!”

Again and again she breathed, in and out, in and out, until at last, the pain was gone, and she lay, sweaty and exhausted, in the infirmary bed. She closed her eyes, exhausted beyond belief, and she just needed a moment or two, just a moment to rest…

“What the bleedin’ hell was that?” 

Her eyes flew open.

“You said she was alright!” Mickey glared at the Doctor, who glared right back.

“She’s recovering, Mickey, but that doesn’t mean she’s back to fighting fit yet!” He scowled at a suddenly pale Mickey. “And what that was, Mickey Smith, was a panic attack. A bad one! What did you say?”

“I…” Mickey swallowed, his complexion even paler. “Nothin’! We was just talkin’ and…”

“About what?” The Doctor looked furious.

“Just…” Mickey shrugged defensively. “What happened, and…”

“You upset Rose.” The Doctor stood and prowled towards a shaking Mickey. “After everything I said to you, after making the rules very clear, you upset Rose.”

“I just wanted to know what happened!”

“What did I say to you, Mickey Smith, before we came in here?”

Mickey swallowed. “You set rules.”

“And what were those rules?” The Doctor’s tone was icy.

“No shoutin’ or raised voices. No upsettin’ Rose.” Mickey swallowed again. “And no askin’ about...what happened until you said it was alright.”

“Right.” The Doctor seemed taller, somehow, and suddenly Rose was almost afraid of his menacing demeanour. “And what did I say would happen if you broke the rules?”

“I...you said I had to leave.” Mickey flushed. “‘M sorry, alright? Was just worried.”

“I’m sure you are.” The Doctor seized Mickey’s arm and dragged him easily towards the door. “You’re still leaving.”

“But Doctor!”

“But nothing. You caused a panic attack.” The Doctor looked coldly at Mickey. “In someone who’s just come out of septic shock. Do you have any idea the damage you could have caused? _Might_ have caused? The strain a panic attack puts on the heart?”

“I…” Mickey hung his head. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Maybe you didn’t.” The Doctor’s tone softened slightly. “But you’re still out. No arguments,” he added, seeing Mickey about to open his mouth. “You’ve seen that Rose is awake and as alright as she can be and that’s enough for now. She needs to rest after that shock. You can come back later- _if_ you can refrain from upsetting Rose. Understood?”

“I…” Glancing at Rose, Mickey exhaled. “Yeah, alright. I...I’m glad you’re OK babe. I’ll be back later.”

Rose nodded, closing her eyes against Mickey’s guilty expression and the Doctor’s eyes full of...something. She couldn’t deal with any of it just now, and she needed to rest.

Just for a moment…

Her eyes snapped open when she heard rustling and clicking suddenly beside her.

“It’s only me,” the Doctor said quietly, removing an empty IV bag. “It’s time for your next course of antibiotics.”

She nodded drowsily, her eyes drifting shut.

“You’ve a good hour or two before you need to eat something,” he said in that quiet, heavy tone he’d been using with her since she woke up. “Why don’t you have a bit of kip and recover for a bit?”

Another nod, her head foggy, barely able to understand what he was saying.

“Love a good kip, me.”

Her eyes flew open at that, seeing his forced smile as he attached the new bag to her IV.

“What is it?” he said, smile vanishing. “Does something hurt?”

“I…no,” she said, trying to push the disappointment and hope that had sprung up when, just for a moment, she was almost certain she’d been speaking to _her_ Doctor. That was impossible, she told herself. Her Doctor was gone.

But, then, her Doctor had been so _sure_ , so adamant that this Doctor was _him_. But how could he be? After everything he’d done, everything he’d said?

She exhaled.

“Don’t worry about it all now, Rose,” he said quietly. “Rest now, and the world will still be here when you wake up. It’ll be alright, in the end.”

“Will it, though?” she murmured, eyes drifting closed as she wondered whether anything would ever be alright again. They were broken and she was broken and it might never get better.

“I think so,” he said quietly. “I hope so. I like hope.”

She sighed and slipped into slumber.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++==

_Three days later, the TARDIS infirmary_

Rose had had it.

She’d hardly been aware of anything that first day back, as she’d spent most of it sleeping, waking only for meals and loo breaks, before going right back to sleep. Her second day, however, she’d stayed awake for much longer, and started to fret at being stuck in bed in the infirmary. By the third day, she’d been ready to climb the walls. She felt well enough to want out of the infirmary, to at least be in her own bed in her own room, where she could be alone, guaranteed some privacy and start to work though her many and conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The Doctor had refused, citing her previous condition, her need for constant monitoring and recovery, and the proximity of the various medical devices he might need (and had needed) to treat her if complications arose. So in bed she remained, staring at the infirmary walls, never knowing when either Mickey or the Doctor would waltz in, and starting to go a little mad at having no control over the space she was in, no place to retreat and lick her wounds and hide and just _think_.

And she was sick of it.

She was sick of being stuck in bed, sick of being stuck in the infirmary, sick of the Doctor tiptoeing round her one minute, and practically ready to bite her head off the next, only to suddenly freeze and assume a serene, zen-like expression that made her want to scream. She was sick of with him making decisions for her, even down to how long Mickey could stay in the infirmary (and what made it worse was he was usually right), she’d had it with the Doctor carrying her to the nearest loo (and thank God she was able to manage in there on her own, because otherwise she’d have _died_ ), sick of being gently placed in the shower and told to be careful, and she was sick of him waiting pressed to the other side of the door in case she fell (in spite of the TARDIS providing a wide bench and handle bar to ensure her security). 

She was sick of being scared, and with never knowing which single, innocent word or phrase could set her off, causing a panic attack or tears or rage that she’d hastily bury before anyone could see it, terrified to let anyone see. She’d had it with feeling like she was broken and would never be normal again, she’d had it with his endless patience when she could see he was ready to explode at the slightest provocation. She was sick of the uncertainty, not knowing where to go from here, what to do, or what the point of her own existence even was, she’d had it with feeling guilty for not calling her mum, and had it with not being able to face her, to tell her what had happened and why, not being ready to deal with the force of nature that was Jackie Tyler. Most of all, she was sick of feeling like she didn’t belong, anymore, with the constant thought that she didn’t belong _anywhere_ anymore.

She was just _sick_ of it.

And after a single look, the Doctor guessed as much, proving that he wasn’t as oblivious to her moods as he seemed. 

“Morning Rose!” He tried to match his usual enthusiastic tones, but the life and spark that was so much a part of this Doctor seemed to be missing.

“Morning,” she said quietly, biting back the unbidden retort that according to him, there _was_ no morning on the TARDIS. Because it hadn’t been him who’d said that- it had been _her_ Doctor.

And she couldn’t bear to think about her Doctor now.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment before loping over to check her vitals. 

“Heart rate good, blood pressure good, blood sugar fine, blood oxygen levels good.” He beamed, looking almost like his usual self. “Brilliant!”

She tried to smile. “That mean I’m alright then?”

His smile faded, replaced by the burdened, weary expression he’d been sporting most of the time. “Getting there, at least.” He tried to force another smile. “Impatient bunch, you lot- you can’t rush these things.”

She sighed, her hope of escape deflating. “Yeah, I know. But ‘s just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, I was hopin’, maybe...” She swallowed, nervous at the thought of making any kind of demand, after...everything. 

“Maybe?” He cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

“I thought maybe, I could go back to my room, now?” She flushed, pushing away the voice that screamed to keep quiet, to _stay still_ , not to ask or demand or draw attention to herself.

_Stay still._

She pushed away the hated voice and turned to the Doctor, clinging to every ounce of courage she had..and almost pulled the blanket over her head because of the way he was looking at her, as though he knew what was happening in her head (although she knew that new new Doctor or not, he’d never, _ever_ go into her mind without her permission). 

“It’s a bit soon,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on hers, seething as they always seemed to be these days with emotions she couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ try to identify. “I think it needs another week or so, before it’s safe.” Seeing her about to protest, he added, “You suffered severe sepsis, Rose, and you went into septic shock. In your time, you’d likely be in critical care for at least a month, depending on how many organs were affected. Now, obviously, I have many _brilliant_ advantages and gadgets here that doctors in your time don’t have, and I got there before you’d been in shock for more than a minute or two.” He swallowed. “But you were still...you need to be near the medical equipment, Rose. I...just in case. Just until we’re sure, until _I’m_ sure that it’s...that there won’t be any sudden changes.”

She nodded, biting back the worry that once she’d reached that point, he’d drop her back at her mum’s and run away quicker than a Zelpian rabbit.

Once again, he seemed to know what she was thinking, and tried to smile. “Your room’s not going anywhere Rose- it’s not like the Wandering Palace of Plithia. It’ll stay right there until you’re ready.”

“Yeah.” She hoped her uncertainty, her hope that her Doctor had been right, that this Doctor wouldn’t just chuck her off as soon as it was safe, didn’t show.

Tilting his head, he fixed her with an unfathomable look before forcing another smile. “Tell you what, though- since you’re doing better, why don’t we go for a stroll to the balcony, hey?”

She blinked. “What? What balcony?”

“All hospitals have a balcony and a garden, Rose.” He winked, his usually cheeky action seeming forced. 

She exhaled. _Everything_ seemed forced, and she wondered how long it could go on before the facade cracked and it all came tumbling down.

Swallowing, she played her own part in the farse and tried to smile. “Garden sounds nice.”

“Garden it is!” Clearing his throat, he rummaged in the corner and emerged with a TARDIS blue wheelchair, wiggling his eyebrows. “She comes with a sidecar.”

She huffed, unable to help it. “Do I really need that?”

He fixed her with an even gaze, the hated zen carefully etched on his features. “You tell me. Have you managed to walk to the loo on your own, yet?”

She sighed. Considering that the loo was literally just off the infirmary, and she couldn’t even manage _that_ , her chances of actually walking _outside_ the infirmary on her own were non-existent. “Fine.”

He gave her a small grin. “Thought we could take it for a spin before we head to the garden- what d’you think?”

Unable to hide her excitement at the thought of being able to wander the TARDIS corridors, and see something, _anything_ outside the infirmary, she nodded eagerly.

 _“Molto bene!”_ He raised his eyebrows as he approached the bed. “We can stop by your room on the way back, if you like, pick up anything that strikes your fancy.”

“Yeah.” Her small smile wasn’t forced, this time. “I’d like that.”

“Brilliant!” Slipping his arms under her, he easily picked her up and transferred her to the wheelchair, both pretending that he hadn’t noticed her sudden tension.

Seizing the wheelchair handles, he pasted on a pale imitation of his usual grin. “ _Allons-y!”_

Smiling weakly as he slowly wheeled her towards the door, Rose closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling that the facade had already started to crack- because she also had a feeling that it was all about to come crashing down.

Pushing the morbid thoughts away, she tried to focus on the positive, on the fact that she was _finally_ getting out of the infirmary for the first time in what seemed like forever. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled as they emerged into the corridor, and tried to blink back her tears as the TARDIS gently chimed and flashed her lights welcomingly.

 _Thanks, girl_ , she said silently, hoping the ship would hear her. The loud hum she got in response told her everything she needed to know. She also filed away the thought that at some point, she was going to have to talk to the Doctor, _this_ Doctor, about the fact that Bad Wolf seemed to have changed her brain. She needed to understand what it would mean for her, and how to use her- she swallowed at the thought- _telepathy-_ or at least, how to avoid getting in trouble with it.

Hearing a surprised huff, she looked up to find that the Doctor had stopped, his mouth open in shock.

“What?” She couldn’t help but ask. “What’s the matter?”

“I...nothing.” He shook his head dazedly as he got them moving again. “Nothing I shouldn’t have expected, anyway.”

“What’s that?” She looked back at him in puzzlement, not sure she wanted to know. He hadn’t heard her single thought to the TARDIS...had he?

“Nothing. Just a slow old Time Lord catching up.” He tried to smile, his eyes full of...something she didn’t want to examine too closely. “You’re full of surprises, Rose Tyler.”

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” she couldn’t help but ask, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Oh, good thing. _Very_ good thing. I like surprises, me!”

She couldn’t help but flinch at that all too familiar way of speaking, and the sharp exhale behind her told her that he’d noticed.

Why did he have to keep reminding her of her Doctor? Or was it her Doctor coming out every now and then, trying to show her he was still in there?” She closed her eyes for a moment, confused, and pushed away the grief that fell on her like a cloak everytime she thought of him.

 _Her_ Doctor.

 _Later_ , she told herself. _Later_ , when she was alone, in her own space and with the privacy and _safety_ to let it all out, _then_ she could grieve, and think and question. Now...now she needed to keep it together, and could only hope that the Doctor wouldn’t say something else to set her off.

It seemed that the TARDIS had other ideas, though, because moments later, they arrived at the door to the gardens, the Doctor opened the door...and she gasped.

Inside was the Valerian garden she and the Doctor had sat in when they’d needed to get away, after a particularly grueling, dangerous or difficult adventure. He’d taken her to Valeria once, and she’d loved it so much, found it so peaceful, that it had become her refuge.

She hadn’t seen it since he’d regenerated all those months ago, and now...now she was shaking with the need to keep it all dammed inside, to stay calm and pretend it was fine and she was fine and… She bit her fist to contain the sob trying to escape her throat.

Why? Why did the TARDIS have to give them this? Why now?

When she thought she could speak without bursting into tears, she cleared her throat. “Interestin’ choice,” was all she said.

There was a loud exhale, and a forced, jovial tone. “It’s the Valerian garden of peace, Rose! You remember Valeria, don’t you?”

“Course I do,” she croaked, digging her fingers into her hands, desperately hoping the sting would distract her from the tears she knew were coming. “Went there after...after nineteen eighty-seven.” She swallowed back tears. “He thought it would help after…”

“After you’d lost your dad,” he said quietly, all traces of forced humour gone, his tone resonating with something she didn’t dare to name. “I thought its calming field would help.”

“I...it did,” she managed. “It helped a lot.”

He exhaled. “Seems a good spot to recover, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” was all she trusted herself to say as he slowly wheeled her into the sunlight, the door closing of its own accord behind them. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the open air, the smell of her favourite Valerian flowers and the fresh cut grass, noticing for the first time, the gentle pulsing beat in her mind. It was soothing and helped to calm her slightly.

“Why don’t we stop here?”

She tore her gaze from the sprawling, bright-coloured gardens to see what he was pointing at.

Their bench.

Or rather, the bench she’d shared with the _last_ him, who hadn’t been ashamed of her, or thought she was less. The him who’d spend hours teaching her the names and constellations of each planet, every solar system they travelled to, the him who’d thought she was _special_.

The him who’d loved her.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the pulsing wave of emotions to the back of her mind and slammed the door shut. “Why not?” She gritted her teeth in an attempt to smile. “Reckon I might stay on this though. Save you luggin’ me about.”

She could hardly say that she couldn’t bear the thought of sitting on it with him.

Giving her a patently false smile of his own, the Doctor nodded and plonked himself on the bench, sprawling. “Ah, comfy.”

She smiled and turned her head to the other side of the garden, where a brook bubbled away merrily.

“Don’t know why I waited so long between visits, truth be told.”

“When was the last?” She couldn’t help but ask, irrationally hurt that he hadn’t asked her to come and heartbroken at this further proof that he wasn’t _her_ Doctor anymore.

Her Doctor had made this place for _her._

“The last time was just before Tokyo.” There was something unfathomable in his voice. “You remember, don’t you?”

“Course I do.” She swallowed. “Was the last time, after all, and just before…”

“Before I regenerated.”

“Yeah.” She blinked away sudden tears and focused on the brook and the pulsing beat in her mind, letting it calm and soothe her.

“You never came back, though.”

She turned to look at him. “What d’you mean?”

“Here.” He waved around. “The garden, you never came back.”

“It didn’t seem right.” She looked back towards the brook, trying to escape his intent gaze. 

“Why not?”

“You didn’t want to,” was all she said.

“You don’t know that.” His tone was unreadable.

She shrugged. “You never asked me to.”

“That’s never stopped you from going just about anywhere on the TARDIS.” The hand on her cheek made her jump as it gently turned her face back towards him. “Why didn’t you come?”

“S’pose I felt it was wrong. Like I was intrudin’.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Her heart pounded. “It was...I only ever came here with…”

“With me,” he said quietly. “The _old_ me.”

She hoped her quick attempt at a smile was reply enough, because she was close to breaking point, and she couldn’t _bear_ it anymore. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone?

“Right,” she croaked. “An’ then, well, we were busy, an’ you didn’t, so…”

“But why didn’t _you_ come?” he pressed. “Why didn’t you, Rose?”

She was silent for a moment. “I...it wasn’t the same anymore,” she whispered finally.

“Because _I’m_ not the same. Because you think I’m not him.” He spoke flatly.

She froze. What could she say? “I know you’re the Doctor,” she said biting her lip in a desperate bid to stave off the tears. “I know that.”

“But not _your_ Doctor.”

She exhaled and bit her lip harder, desperately fighting off the emotions battling for release. “I don’t...I...”

He smiled sadly. “Can’t even bring yourself to say it, can you?”

“I…” She fought off the panic that threatened to consume her. What would he say? What would he _do_ ? Would he kick her out as soon as she was able? She knew her Doctor had promised, he’d _promised_ her, but he’d also said that this Doctor was him, and...

“Rose.” 

His voice cut through the conflicting thoughts in her head.

She waited for him to say it, to tell her they were done, that it was over.

Instead, he took her hand.

“Rose,” he said again, his tone quiet, intense. “There are some things I need to... I have to...” He exhaled, ruffling his hair with his free hand. “Some things just need saying.” He turned turbulent brown eyes on her, their intensity reminding her, just for a moment, of when they’d been blue.

“Will you, let me, Rose? Will you listen?”


	10. To Tell The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor start a long overdue conversation. But is the Doctor able to be honest and is Rose ready to hear him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllloooo lovelies! Well here it is- another week (and gosh, what a week), another chapter. I hope you like this one, as Rose and the Doctor start to unpick the tangle they're in. It's far from settled or fixed, but at least they're talking! Just the general tag warning this time, no special ones.  
> As always, thanks to Rose_Nebula for her wonderful beta and encouragement and all mistakes are mine. Thanks also to all you lively people who leave comments and feedback- it keeps me going!  
> I hope you're all keeping safe during these crazy days. <3 <3 <3

_“Will you let me, Rose? Will you listen?”_

Rose swallowed. “Listen to what?”

“To me!” The Doctor waved his hands wildly. “To what...there are things I need to say.”

Turning to look out at the brook, she shifted slightly. “‘Bout what?”

He exhaled behind her. “I think you know, Rose.”

She kept her gaze fixed determinedly on the bubbling water. “How can I? You haven’t told me yet.” 

“Rose.”

She refused to turn her head.

“Rose.”

She said nothing.

 _“Rose.”_ A gentle hand turned her face slowly towards him. “You know.” He eyed her meaningfully.

She swallowed again, jerking her face free and turning away refusing to assume anything and determined to protect herself at all costs. “No I don’t.” 

He sighed.

Rose took a deep breath, fighting the ever-present fears that he’d get sick of it, sick of _her_ and dump her off somewhere. She pushed away old ghosts that told her she was asking too much, that she was the unreasonable one, refusing to let things go, and just accept his apology.

Only… He hadn’t made an apology yet. He hadn’t said anything about it. She sat up straighter in her wheelchair, suddenly recalling what her Doctor had said back in the mindscape.

_“From here on out, wherever you go, whatever you do, it’s your choice. You have our word...You’ll not be forced or abandoned by the Doctor again, no matter what.”_

She swallowed, trying desperately to cling to those words, the surety that she wouldn’t be dumped unceremoniously in some backwater if she dared to challenge him, to stand up for herself, to _protect_ herself. Because really, when it came down to it, this Doctor was trying to avoid saying the difficult thing, to make her do it so he wouldn't have to. But that didn’t mean that she had to play along. 

She took a deep breath to settle herself, and turned to face him, clinging to the memories her Doctor had given her just a few days before, reminding herself how he saw her, that she deserved to determine what happened to her from now on, that _she_ would determine the relationship she had with the Time Lord in front of her, and she would determine how much or how little she trusted him.

And right now, it was _very_ little.

If he wanted to talk to her, if he wanted to say these things that apparently needed saying, then he could grow a pair and _say_ them. She’d been through too much, he’d _hurt_ her too much with his guessing games and she wasn’t playing anymore. Either he could tell her or not, but she was done putting herself and her emotions at risk by guessing his meaning, only to be accused of ‘misunderstanding’ later.

Exhaling, she turned to face him, shaking with fear and a sudden anger. “No, I don’t,” she repeated, her voice quavering. 

“Rose-”

“No.” She shook her head, trembling in terror. “No more guessin’ games, Doctor. Either you tell me or we’re not havin’ this conversation.”

He stared at her, mouth open.

“I…” She took a deep breath, clinging to her Doctor’s word that she would have control of herself, and her life. And her Doctor kept his promises. “‘M not doin’ this anymore. If you want to say something, then you say it.”

Her hands clutched the spokes of her chair, white with terror.

“I…” He swallowed. “I suppose that’s fair. I did ask you to listen, after all.”

She nodded jerkily, focusing blindly on a nearby hedge, still half-certain that in spite of her Doctor’s promises, she was going to be thrown out for daring to force him to speak. But then, she hadn’t forced him, had she? He’d asked her to listen, and she’d told him what it would take for her to listen. No more, no less, and the ball was in his court, now.

She heard a loud exhale. “I…” His laugh was choked. “I don’t think this me has ever run out of words before.”

Rose continued staring at the hedge.

“I...you’re right, though. No more guessing games, Rose- I’ve done enough damage as it is.”

She turned to face him, startled. “What?”

He gave a funny twitch of the lips that might have been a smile- a forced, joyless smile that didn’t look like him at all.

She hated that they’d been reduced to dancing around one another, afraid to put a foot wrong, forcing smiles and trying to act as though everything was fine, when they both knew it wasn’t. The worst part was, there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t trust him- not enough to bare her soul to him, tell him her fears and emotions the same way she had _her_ Doctor. Things were so different now, and it was largely down to him- he had _made_ them different, he had _been_ different, and the first move had to be his.

He made it. 

“I’d have to be pretty thick not to notice what a mess I’ve made of us, Rose.”

She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say. Was he actually admitting that he was _wrong?_

Once again, he seemed to know what she was thinking. “I know- it’s a day for the scrapbook, innit?”

Uncertain how he expected her to respond to that, she gave a half-shrug. “Do you even _have_ a scrapbook?”

“Yeah I think I do, actually- knocking about somewhere.” He barked a laugh. “Fifth me liked a bit of scrapbooking on occasion.”

She blinked at this rare mention of his life...before. “Really? How come? Doesn’t seem very... _Doctor._ ” She bit her tongue at her almost slip, nearly saying _you_ instead of _Doctor_. She wasn’t prepared to think about this Doctor in relation to any other, not now, and not when he was trying to say... _something_.

“Dunno, really, just appealed.” He cringed. “Lot of strange things appealed to me in that body- I used to wear celery pinned to my jacket.”

In spite of herself, she was intrigued. “You did? What for?”

The Doctor shuddered. “You wouldn’t believe what some of my past selves considered ‘fashionable’. Sixth and Seventh me should have been arrested.” He twitched, suddenly- as though he’d been poked, and Rose couldn’t help but wonder if those selves had somehow... _poked_ him in the brain. “And don’t get me started on the Eighth! That _hair!_ And as for Ninth me, what with that hair and the jacket...”

“I loved them,” she couldn’t help but say and immediately bit her lip, knowing she’d brought the conversation back to much more uncomfortable and dangerous topics.

“I know you did,” he said softly, a slight breeze ruffling his hair. “S’pose I was hoping you wouldn’t mind the pinstripes either.”

“Didn’t say I did,” was all she said, knowing he was talking about much more than clothing, now.

“True enough.” He laughed grimly. “Pretty obvious though, wouldn’t you say, Rose?”

Fighting away the sudden panic, she turned to face him, terror making her blunt. “I’ve never had a problem with your clothes, Doctor.”

“No, but then we’re not really talking about clothes, though, are we, Rose?”

She inhaled, trying to remember the slow and steady rhythm he’d taught her in the infirmary, forcing the panic away, because she needed to say this. “You tell me, Doctor. You said there were...things that needed sayin’, yeah?”

“I did.” He nodded warily, seemingly surprised by her insistence on his openness.

She didn’t blame him, had never dared, had only come close _once_ since he’d regenerated, and he’d fobbed her off with some nice lines outside a chip shop. But she wasn’t going to accept half-answers and insinuations anymore, because as contradictory as it seemed, her terror, her _fear_ , and her utter certainty that he didn’t value her in the slightest made her both bold and blunt. “K. So...say them.”

Why was she so out of breath? She hadn’t even moved from her chair.

“Right, yes.” He sucked his top lip, seemingly caught between surprise and amusement. “That’s really the crux of it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“You’ve never been so suspicious of me. Not since that night with the Autons, anyway.”

She tried not to think of her Doctor, and the night that had changed her entire life. “‘M not suspicious. I just...I need to know exactly what you’re sayin’.”

“Why? You’ve never needed me to say it before.”

“Yeah I did.” Rose pushed absently at a stray hair on her forehead, her hand trembling. “But you never...and then I thought I knew what you…” She exhaled. “But I didn’t. I just...I dunno what to think right now, Doctor, an’ if you want...” She gulped, unable to believe she was pushing him to speak so blatantly. “If you want me to hear...whatever it is, then I need you to say it loud and clear- no guessin’. I can’t...I can’t deal with anymore than I’ve got, Doctor.”

“S’pose not,” he said quietly. “And I s’pose that’s fair.” He barked a laugh. “It’s odd, I keep saying that and then I get carried off on some tangent.”

She shrugged. “‘S what you do when you don’t want to talk about somethin’. ‘M used to it.”

“Not just this me.”

“No, but you do it...a lot. “ She looked away again, unable to bear the look of surprise on his face. “What, you think I didn’t notice?”

“I...no, of course not.” He sucked at his lips again, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet surrounds of the garden. “Bit galling to realise I’ve been so obvious, though, if I’m honest, especially when I’ve convinced myself that that’s not what I’m doing.”

There was nothing at all she could say to that, so she turned back to the hedge.

She heard a sigh. “Right, the point. I’m the same man, Rose. I’m still him. But…you don’t trust me.”

She froze. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who could be blunt when things were desperate enough, and her first instinct was to defend herself, to protest and tell him he was _wrong_. Only, he wasn’t was he? Not about her not trusting him.

“I…” She sighed.

“You don’t, Rose- you know it and I know it. Oh I know you trust me enough to let me treat you- medically, I mean- well, now at least. You trust me not to...I dunno, turn into some lunatic axe murderer, but you don’t _trust_ me, do you? Not like before.”

In spite of all the guilt and fear and anger and _confusion_ swirling through her just now, a small, quiet voice broke through, the simple question continually repeated, emblazoned on her brain. Heart pounding and unable to believe what she was doing, she said it. 

“You...did you give me a reason to?”

He froze.

Might as well be hung for a sheep, she supposed, and with another deep breath, she forced herself to speak. She needed to say this, and he needed to hear it if she was going to have any chance of staying on the TARDIS in any capacity. “I...you didn’t tell me about...about regeneration. The old Doctor just...caught fire and then suddenly there you were, wearin’ his clothes. I learned to know you, this you, I trusted you when you said you were the same. But then you _weren’t._ You were different.” She looked away. “I’ve been through this before, Doctor, an’ I’m not…’m not settin’ myself up to be played with again.”

“Played with!”

She turned to look at him. “You lied to me,” she said, her voice low. “You made me trust you, made me believe you and you lied to me. If you…” she gulped, her heart racing. “If you didn’t want...to be like before, you should have said. But you didn’t. You lied to me.”

“Rose…” He sounded wounded, shocked.

“You know what you said that night that we met Sarah-Jane.” She refused to say the words, terrified to give them any more power over her than they already had, terrified that she’d crumple into a sobbing, pathetic mess, bewailing the fact that he didn’t want her, Jimmy’s scathing words burning in her ears. ”You promised and then you left me.”

“Rose.” He looked so very _old_ , suddenly, so tired and defeated.

She pushed away the stifling guilt. She had to say this. 

“He wouldn’t have done that.” She swallowed, hot tears burning her eyes. “My Doctor. He could be a right grump, he could be cruel when he wanted to be, but...he’d never have left me like that.” She bit her lip, holding in the rest- that _her_ Doctor had never treated her as though she didn’t matter, and would never have left her for some posh, greedy snob. 

“I…” He closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean to…’

She exhaled, in sudden fury this time, and looked back at the brook, trying to calm her temper. “You got on a horse and rode through that window knowing there was no coming back, Doctor. You left me an’ Mickey there on that space station, not even knowin’ if you could come back. Looks like a deliberate choice to me.”

“It was, of course it was.” He swallowed, his eyes pained. “But it was never about leaving you.”

“But you did.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. 

“I was- wrong.” The words sounded torn from him. “I shouldn’t have...I should never have done that Rose, I admit it.”

“An’ you never even said why.” She swallowed painfully. “You promised that night, and the next day you just took off and left me. You broke your promise an’ then you just acted like everythin’ was fine.” She looked away. “Until it wasn’t. If I hadn’t…gotten sick, we wouldn’t even be talking about it now. You’d just be actin’ like everything was fine an’ I’d be tryin’ to second guess everything you said.”

“Second guess?” he asked quietly.

“I…” She shook her head, trying to dispel the seething emotions, the pressure that was building. “You said you were the same, but you weren’t. You said you wanted me there, but you didn’t. You don’t. Not now.” She took a deep breath. “I know I should have told you about...about that stupid cut, but you should have told me too.”

“Told you what?” 

“When it changed. When _you_ changed. It wasn’t fair to tell me one thing and do something else. You should’ve said you didn’t want to be...like we were. Or if you didn’t want me there.”

“I did want you there! I _do!”_ he said fiercely. “You have to believe me, Rose, I want you here- you _belong_ here.”

She felt as though he’d punched her in the gut. “Don’t.”

“What?” He slid to the edge of the bench, seizing her hands and looking at her pleadingly. “Don’t what? Don’t tell you that I want you here? I do! Don’t tell you that you belong here? Because you _do_ , Rose! You belong here more than anyone ever has, you fit here better than anyone ever has!”

“Don’t say that.” She looked away, her breathing coming shallowly and quickly. “‘S not fair, not when you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it! Why do you think I’m here, why d’you think _we’re_ here? Why d’you think we’re talking about this when neither of us want to? Why d’you think I did what I did to bring you back?”

“Because _he_...loves me,” she said painfully, pushing herself to say the words for the sake of her Doctor, who was there, listening even if he couldn’t speak, forcing herself to breathe through the panic at what she was saying, at what she was _doing_. “An’ because you felt sorry for me. Because you had to. Because you’re the Doctor an’ you save people. That’s all. ‘S not cause of _me_. I’m just another human to you.”

“No!” His eyes were wild, now- somehow deeper and more ancient, no longer the brown-eyed Doctor who bounced around the TARDIS.

“Yes.” She inhaled, tugging her hands from his. “You changed, Doctor. You weren’t the same after New Earth. You kept sayin’ you were, but you acted different and I was always tryin’ to guess why.” She inhaled shakily. “I went from plus one and bein’ the best with him to bein’ a...a wild child bought for sixpence. You made me a lunch lady, so I’d be out of your way while you did the _real_ work.” She looked away. “You didn’t notice when I went missing in Scotland, not for hours. You didn’t even care that me an’ Mickey were strapped down by those robots, or that they almost killed us. You didn’t care that they suddenly wanted _my_ head. You just called me a nag.” She exhaled, trying to get her thoughts straight, trying to get a firm grip on her emotions, desperate not to have a panic attack again. Not now. Not with him.

He was silent.

Forcing herself to keep going, she took a deep breath, reminding herself of her Doctor’s promise- that she wouldn’t be kicked out, that she wasn’t going to lose her home on the TARDIS, and if nothing else, she trusted her Doctor. 

“It was pretty obvious that you didn’t want me anymore,” she forced herself to say. “You brought Mickey on board when I didn’t want him here, when- you did it when I didn’t want him here, to push me away. And then you left us to die on that ship and went after...Madame de Pompadour.” She inhaled as she tried to force a mental distance between herself and those hated memories, to dampen their power to hurt her. “You went back. I knew, you know. I knew that if she’d...if she was there, you’d have brought her back and she’d have stayed.” Another breath. “An’ I reckon that my time on the TARDIS would have been over- an’ Mickey's too.”

“No!” he croaked. “Rose, how could you think that?”

She closed her eyes. “‘S like I said, Doctor- you kept telling me you were the same as my first Doctor, an’ you acted completely different. You talk and talk but you never really say anythin’ an’ I...I’m tired, Doctor. I’m tired of tryin’ to guess what you mean, and I’m tired of trying to second guess myself every time you do something different, tryin’ to work out if I misunderstood, if it’s my fault when you act like you don’t care anymore.” She blinked away tears. “When you break a promise.”

He was silent.

“You know what?” She continued to stare at the brook. “I get why it was bad that I didn’t come to you when this-” She gingerly touched the dressing on her collarbone -”got infected. I...can’t...but I know it was dangerous and I could have died. I nearly did die. I know that an’ I know I have to work on... whatever the hell is happenin’ in my head so I don’t put myself in danger again. But did you even think about what would have happened if you’d come back later? If it had been five and a half days later instead of five and a half hours?” She huffed. “It would’ve been too late, Doctor. I’d have been gone, and Mickey would have had to deal with it by himself. I know you’re mad at me for not comin’ to you, but I bet you never thought about the fact that if that window had worked differently I’d have been dead just the same. It don’t bother you.”

“You’re wrong,” he growled. “I’ve thought of nothing else since you came out of that telepathic trance.”

She shook her head, and said nothing.

“Rose.” He turned her face firmly and gently to him, taking one hand in his for good measure. “Believe nothing else if you will, but believe that. I’ve been castigating myself for it and so has every other me.”

She breathed deeply, inexplicably worried that she’d touched a nerve. “Probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes you should!” His eyes were wild, filled with emotions she didn’t dare examine. “You should always be honest with me! You should always say what you think.”

She huffed. 

“What?” he demanded, tugging his hands through his hair in agitation. “You think I don’t mean it?”

“The last time I...that night, with the Krillitane.” She exhaled. “You acted like I was selfish for bein’ upset about Sarah-Jane, for being upset that you’d had other companions you pretended didn’t exist. You acted like I didn’t have a right to worry about what was goin’ to happen to me when you got sick of me. You went on about witherin’ and dying, makin’ me feel like I was some stupid, selfish ape for even bringin’ it up, for feelin’ upset.” She blinked away tears. “An’ then you went and abandoned us for some woman who wasn’t in your life a day, Doctor. An’ don’t think I’m tellin’ you off for fallin’ in love with her- you feel how you feel an’ s’ none of my business. But you lied to my face that night- you made me feel like I didn’t have a right to be upset that you had a history of dumping people like rubbish, and that it could happen to me.” She finally turned and looked him in the eye, suddenly realising what had hurt so much that night. “You acted like I was bein’ selfish for wantin’ to be treated like I mattered, like I was a person and not some hobby you pick up and put down when you feel like it.” She turned back to the brook. “Why d’you think I’d tell you anythin’ after that? You acted like I didn’t matter and you told me I didn’t matter.”

The Doctor was utterly silent.

Rose shifted bodily in her chair, spinning the chair around until she was facing away from the Doctor and he was looking at her back. She couldn’t bear to look at him, not now- not after all she’d said, not after he’d started this whole disastrous conversation just to tell her that she didn’t trust him. More than anything, she wished she could wheel herself back to the infirmary and hide under her blankets. She didn’t know what he’d imagined would come from this _bloody_ conversation but it was nothing but heartache for both of them. Maybe she hadn’t been ready, and maybe he hadn’t, or maybe they’d never be able to talk about it (and maybe she’d have to leave), but all she knew was that at this very minute, she’d said all she could bear to.

Swallowing her pride, she opened her mouth to ask him to take her back to the infirmary when, suddenly, he spoke.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice low and intense. “You’re absolutely right, Rose.”

She inhaled painfully. Her Doctor had been wrong and she’d been right all along- this Doctor didn’t want her- but at least it was all out in the open now.

“So what’s ‘at mean?” she managed to ask, barely able to force her voice from her throat. Was this it? Was he going to make her leave after all?

“It means, Rose Tyler-” he swallowed audibly before suddenly seizing her chair and spinning her round to face him. “- that I owe you an apology.”

She gaped at him. “You do?” 

“Oh, yes.” His eyes burned, the sight heartbreakingly familiar for a moment. “Because you’re right. I did break my promise. I didn’t lie, Rose- you have to believe that- I meant every word as I said it. But I broke my promise because I was...scared.” He swallowed. “And it could easily have killed you- both of you.” He took a deep breath. “And you’re right- I did act as though you were...being selfish, hurting me, that night, because I was scared. I failed you each and every time, Rose, and I admit it- but not because I didn’t care, or because you didn’t deserve the consideration. Never that, Rose”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I’m a coward, and decided to backpedal for the Olympics to hide, to protect myself.”

“From _what_ though?” she asked, frustrated. “From _me?_ What d’you think I am, Doctor? ‘M just a stupid human shopgirl from the East End. What d’you think I could do to a bloomin’ Time Lord?”

“Oh, a lot more than you think.” His eyes were so intense, she felt as though they were scorching her, and it frightened her. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this- not _this_ Doctor, who pretended he didn’t feel anything at all, who hid his intensity with walls and walls of meaningless words. “You could do anything you wanted, Rose, with the power you have.”

“What power?” She was starting to get angry, now. Why did he have to mock her like this? “I don’t have any power.” She faltered, thinking of Bad Wolf. But surely he didn’t think she’d try to use whatever gifts she had against him, did he? She didn’t even know what she could do! If she _could_ do anything!

“Ohhhhh but you do.” He tugged her a little closer. “It frightened me, Rose, and I ran from it like the coward I am, and I hurt you, but you have it.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Her heart was pounding in fear and suddenly, she wanted to be somewhere, _anywhere_ that wasn’t here. She couldn’t take anymore and she wanted to hide far away, she needed to sit quietly and think it all over and...

His eyes burned. “I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded in terror. “Wh-what?” She managed to whisper, hunching into herself, hands trembling violently. He couldn’t, he _didn’t_ , she knew that. Why would he toy with her like this? Hadn’t she been through enough? How could he do this to her? Why would he be so cruel? Was it payback for what she’d done? Was he trying to hurt her to get back at her for everything she’d put him through with her illness?

She shook her head in mute denial, unable to utter another word. 

If anything, his expression grew even fiercer. 

“I love you.”


	11. Hear My Soul Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor finally says what needs saying. And Rose has a choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo shiny people! Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and happy holidays to everyone who doesn't. Here is the next chapter of the fic and fair warning, I'm still mad at it because I just don't feel like it's where I want it to be, but I finally decided somewhere around the millionth edit to just post and get it out. I hope it's not too terrible.  
> Many thanks to the lovely Rose_Nebula for her wonderful beta and encouragement with this fic, and also to the wonderful Gallifreyrose, dd_wings, Saecookie, Aintfraidanoghosts and Tea_in_the_TARDIS for their fabulous support as always. Thank you also to all those who send comments/feedback- you're amazing and it keeps me going!  
>  **Trigger warning: brief mention of a potential panic attack, otherwise follow the general trigger warnings for this fic.**  
>  I hope you enjoy the chapter and all the best for the coming new year,
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

The Doctor held his breath, terrified of her response.

It was ironic that after weeks of avoiding her and this very situation, here they were. Only now, instead of fearing her love and lamentably short lifespan, her recriminating looks and the hurt he refused to see, he was afraid of her rejection, and the fact that he might have destroyed her trust so much that she’d choose to stay on as a near stranger. Or worse, she might _leave._

The galling thing was, he was still afraid of all the other things, too. 

He was afraid of losing her, of admitting just how much he needed her light to dispel his darkness. He was afraid that in letting down his defenses, he’d be vulnerable to the unspeakable blow that the universe would inevitably deal him when it took her away. If he let her in, there was no going back; he knew that, and if he let her in, inevitably, there would be pain. There would be hurt. Was he really prepared to risk that, to _face_ that? But then, if he didn’t, what was the alternative? To lose her while she was still here? To lose her by his own hand? Would that hurt any less? 

Of course not.

 _Took you long enough to catch on_ , his Ninth self snapped. _'Bout bloody time._

 _Shut it,_ the Doctor growled at his troublesome past incarnation. _It’s_ **_your_ ** _fault we’re in this mess in the first place. You’re the one who went and fell in love with a twentieth century human._

 _Oh, an’ I’m the only one that did that, am I?_ The Northern voice mocked. _You chose,_ **_we_ ** _chose to be created this way for her, and you went and fell head over heels for her the minute she took your hand in the snow, you daft sod. You know Rose is different._ The voice grew quieter. _She’s everything we thought we’d never have, everything we don’t deserve and more than we could ever dream of. I’d give anything for another day with her, an’ here you are nigh on cowering in the corner. What’s wrong with you, boy?_

 _I’m_ **_older_ ** _than you,_ his current self growled, unable to refute anything else the Ninth him had said. 

_Try actin’ like it,_ his younger self growled right back. _So far you’ve been acting like a cowardly boy runnin’ scared of his feelings, an’ you’ve given no thought to Rose or what your back and forth guff has done to her. Are you so daft that you’d sacrifice the best gift you could ever have, yours for the asking, just because you might lose it later?_

The Doctor exhaled, hating his younger self’s logic, because really, that was it- what had finally driven him to speak, what had pricked his bubble of selfishness. He could have happiness now and potential loss later, or loss now _and_ later- because no matter what he told himself, he knew he was gone, _far_ gone, on a pink and yellow human by the name of Rose Tyler. And put like that, it had made his previous behaviour look nothing more than cowardly...and selfish.

So, faced with the consequences of his actions and what they’d done to Rose, he’d swallowed his fears...and said it.

“Don’t…” Rose swallowed, the sound drawing his attention away from his irate past self back to the tiny human who held his hearts in her hand. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked quietly, hearts pounding, knowing what her answer would be but dreading it nonetheless.

“Because you don’t mean it!” she snapped, voice trembling.

“I do mean it,” he said, forcing his voice not to betray his turbulent emotions. “I love you.”

“Stop it!” she cried, her hands trembling. “Just stop it! Why are you sayin’ that?”

“You asked me to tell you _why_ you have the power _,”_ he said lowly. “So I did.”

“An’ what, you expect me to _believe_ that?” she demanded, voice shaking. “After everything I’ve just told you about how you’ve made me feel, after _you_ tellin’ me flat out that you believe I don’t trust you, you expect me to believe _that_?”

“No.” He swallowed. “I don’t. But it needed to be said nonetheless.” He slid to his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Some things need saying, Rose.”

“I can’t...” She swallowed, blinking rapidly. “You just feel _sorry_ for me, an’ I won’t have it, Doctor! I might be just a stupid chav from Peckham but I’m not havin’ your pity.” She glared at him through her tears. “I don’t want anybody’s pity, but _especially_ not yours.”

Bitter bile burned in his throat at the thought of just how much he’d ruined things between them, at how much he’d destroyed her trust in him, if she thought his declaration of love was born of pity. “I feel a lot of things for you, Rose Tyler, but I promise you, pity isn’t one of them. And you’re not _just_ anything.”

“Why should I believe you?” she demanded, eyes wide in what looked horribly like fear. “Why?”

His hearts ached at the thought that she was scared of _him._

 _Just now noticing, are we?_ the voice of his Ninth self snapped. _Better late than never._

Trying to keep his temper (as he’d been doing since the moment they’d arrived back in the waking world), he forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. He couldn’t afford to lose control of himself now.

“I don’t expect you to- at least, not now,” he repeated evenly, while his Ninth self snarled creative Zaglorian curses at him, and exasperated, he didn’t bother deflecting them. What was the point? The younger him was like a dog with a bone. He did ignore the small voice (and oh, wasn’t his mind a pretty, complicated mess) that reminded him he deserved every insult he flung at his own head (really, come to think of it, Time Lord minds were a complete disaster, and it was a wonder more of them hadn’t gone completely bonkers by their second or third incarnation).

“Then what _do_ you want?” Rose demanded, turning to face him at last, her face pale. “What the hell do you want from me Doctor? Cause I’ve got _nothin’_ left. I trusted you when you didn’t tell me about regeneration and your entire face changed. I trusted you when you told me you were the same man and you felt the same way about me that he did. I trusted you when you started leavin’ me behind, and actin’ different. I trusted you when I found out you’d had all these companions before and that you’d chucked ‘em like rubbish on the side of the road when you were done. I trusted you when you said you wouldn’t do it to me, and when you made me feel selfish for even askin’. I trusted you right up until you left us to die on a rusty old space station for some greedy snob that ran a whole country into the ground. I don’t have any more trust left, Doctor, an’ it almost killed me.” 

Each word struck him like a blow, and for the first time in this incarnation, he _let_ them. Because it was all true. She _had_ trusted him, no matter how many times he’d let her down. He’d made promises and thrown ambiguous words around, and then every time she’d gotten too close, or he’d been scared, or uncertain, he’d shut things out, shut _her_ out. He’d gallivant on to the next adventure, babbling at two hundred Zelphidian miles an hour, with a vague sense of unacknowledged guilt and pushing her away all the harder because of it. 

And she’d still trusted him.

He’d allowed himself to _react_ rather than act, to respond without thought to whatever was in front of him (and oh, wasn’t _that_ galling for a Time Lord? Borusa and the rest of those gits would be clutching their collective pearls at how utterly irrational he’d become), and in the end, what had it gotten him? Betraying Rose with kisses from a courtesan, a courtesan who’d been one of the most selfish, power-mad people of her time? A woman who’d used all her considerable intellect for her own benefit and to the detriment of the millions of starving people? Leaving Rose (and _Mickey_ ) to die on an unknown, unnamed spaceship somewhere in the future? Breaking Rose’s trust, all in some colossially stupid effort to avoiding losing her? Rassilon, his actions had almost lost her anyway! What had his cowardice got him but precisely what he’d been terrified of in the first place?

“No,” he repeated. “I don’t expect you to believe me now.”

Rose shook, visibly trying to take control of her seething emotions. _“Then. What. Do. You. Want?”_ she spat through clenched teeth.

He inhaled shakily. If she’d asked him that very same questions a mere few days ago, he knew he’d have fobbed her off, fobbed _himself_ off with some nonsense about exploring the mysteries of the universe and seeing things, carefully interspersed with some half-arsed mumbo-jumbo about human lifespans and _distance_. He might even have asked her what _she_ thought, and let her build castles in the air and then fled when it all got too much for his tired, scared old head...just as he’d done before. Rassilon, somewhere inside his wretched head, he was still tempted, oh, _so_ tempted, to do it again, to run, to hide, to protect himself….only he knew that it would hurt Rose, that this time, he would _lose_ Rose, because he knew they were down to the wire and it was all or nothing, now. 

_Then tell her the truth,_ **_all_ ** _of it, you daft apeth._ The Northern voice growled fiercely. _Else you’ll hurt her and we’ve lost her._

The Doctor gulped. The truth. 

He’d spent so much time running from the truth that he could scarcely admit it even to himself. Because the truth was, he wanted _her_. He wanted Rose Tyler, _needed_ her with him for all of his days, for as long as he could have her. He wanted them to explore the universe together, the Doctor and Rose Tyler, together in the TARDIS. He wanted to show her the wonders of time and space, to share _himself_ , his burden with her. 

He wanted the impossible.

He exhaled, and in spite of himself, he smiled.

Because Rose Tyler had already _done_ the impossible, beaten impossible odds and reordered all of time and space.

For _him._

He basked in the warmth that seeped through him at the thought of her striding out of the TARDIS on the Gamestation, glowing gold with the power of all of time and space, come to rescue his sorry skin from a final, lonely death, and the universe from annihilation at the hands of the Daleks. She’d willingly swallowed the vortex to save him, and he couldn’t face his fears for her?

 _Told you, coward of the worst sort,_ his Ninth self snarled. _Took you long enough to work it out. You don’t deserve her, we don’t deserve her...but she deserves our honesty. She deserves a choice. She deserves everything we can give her._

And for once, he and his past self, _all_ of his past selves, were in total agreement: Rose Tyler deserved everything. She deserved the choices that had been taken from her, the consideration he himself had selfishly denied her. She deserved to know that she was clever and unique and special and _loved_. She deserved to know that she belonged here, that she was fantastic and brilliant and suited to this life in a way that no one else was. She deserved to know that he was sorry (so, _so_ sorry) and that he’d willingly do whatever it took to earn back her trust. She deserved to know why he’d done what he’d done, that he lay bare everything he was and thought to her. 

It was high time that he repaid her trust with his own.

“Well?” Rose snapped. 

He blinked, coming back to himself, realising that, true to form, he’d gotten so lost in his ramblings that he’d forgotten to answer her question.

No more. Rose would never have cause to think that she was anything other than _first_ in his thoughts. Whatever it cost him.

He took a deep breath. “A chance.”

“What?” She looked baffled.

“A chance,” he repeated, flinging caution to the wind and seizing her hands. “I want a chance, Rose.”

“A chance for what?” Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious.

Mentally castigating himself for the very good cause she had not to trust him, he looked her in the eye. “A chance to prove myself.”

“Prove what?” She clung stubbornly to her refusal to hear what he was saying, and after all the times he’d led her on, he couldn’t blame her.

“A chance to earn your trust, to prove I’m sorry.” He inhaled. “A chance to prove that I’m more than just the selfish wanker who made an Olympic sport of dodging. That I’m more than the git who broke your trust and-” He grit his teeth and forced himself to say it. “Betrayed you.” He exhaled. “A chance to explain. A chance to prove that I love you.”

She sat frozen in place, her face blank.

He pushed on, desperate. “I know I don’t deserve one, Rose, but...I’m hoping you’ll give me one anyway.”

“‘S not right.” She blinked the tears fiercely away. “‘S not right for you to say that when I know you don’t mean it.”

“I _do_ mean it, Rose. I do. But I’m not asking for you to believe me now.” He paced frantically back and forth beside her chair. “Just for a chance to prove it to you.”

“But you don’t.” She looked away, rubbing roughly at her face. “You _can’t.”_

“Why can’t I?” he asked, frustrated (even though he knew it was his own fault that they were here in the first place. _He’d_ broken her trust, after all.)

“Because you loved _her_ , Doctor. I saw you, I saw your face when you saw she’d died.” She shook her head. “You left everything behind for her- your TARDIS, your life in the stars, _us.”_ She glared. “An’ I heard you.”

He frowned. “Heard what?”

“You kissed her.”

He swallowed, even as his Ninth self cursed him fluently and at length. “How…”

“‘S a _metal_ ship, Doctor, and everything that was happening in those time windows was echoing loud and clear.” She glared. “You announced it for all the world to hear, remember?”

_“I snogged Madame de Pompadour!”_

The words resounded through his skull, and not for the first time, he wished he could go back and undo what he’d done.

And smack himself for good measure.

 _Don’t tempt me_ , the Northern voice growled. _I’d be happy to find a way to do it meself._

Blinking, he brought his attention on the angry, hurting woman in front of him.

“Rose-”

“I know you loved her, Doctor, and that was barely a week ago. Don’t act like you’re over it.”

“But Rose-”

“Doctor.” She glared. “Maybe ‘m not the cleverest person around. Maybe I don’t have a royal title or a posh education, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely stupid. I know you loved her and that means you didn’t and could never love me.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Don’t.” She turned her face away. “Don’t even try, Doctor. I know what she was, you said it yourself- _one of the most accomplished women in history!_ She was clever and posh and beautiful and could do all these things that I could never do.” She sniffed. “I looked her up, you know, while we were waitin’ for you to come back. But you know what else she was? She was greedy, an’ selfish, and all she cared about was her own ego and gettin’ ahead and she ruined a country to do it.” She exhaled. “An’ you didn’t care. It was like all the amazin’ gifts she had meant that all the bad stuff she did didn’t matter to you.” 

Rose rubbed her eyes, making his hearts ache all over again. “There’s no way you could be the same man, the same Doctor... _my_ Doctor.” She swallowed. “Because my Doctor cared about the little people. He didn’t give a toss about titles and wealth. An’ he wouldn’t have ignored all the bad stuff she did, what she _was_ just because she was beautiful and clever. An’ if that’s what you want, if that’s what gets to you, then you can’t love me because I’m not.”

“Not what?” he couldn’t help but ask, hearts pounding. Oh, but this was bad. This was very, very _bad_.

“Not any of it! I’m not clever like she is, I dunno politics or...or how to act around royalty. I’m not beautiful like her, I don’t dress like her, ‘m not posh, I dunno how to write plays or play the harp or whatever else she did.” She shook her head. “You went for her because she was enough for you, Doctor. Because she’s _special_. And I’m not.”

“No!”

“Look, I was right there, wasn’t I? For weeks? An’ you just kept gettin’ further and further away and feedin’ me some spiel about withering and dying when really, you didn’t want me, because I wasn’t enough for you to take that risk.” She sniffed. “But she was, an’ that’s _fine._ You’re a Time Lord an’ I’m a nobody from a council estate- I know the drill, Doctor, an’ this isn’t a movie. ‘S fair enough that somebody that special, that clever would be much more your speed, and that I’m not. But don’t you sit there and try to tell me that you’re _him_ , that you…”she gulped, evidently unable to say it. “That you feel like that. Don’t you _dare._ Not after what you did. _”_

“Oh, Rose.” Was it possible to be sick and weep at the same time? “Rose, that’s...that’s not it at all! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry that I... that’s not it!”

“What’s not it?” She folded her arms and looked away. “That she was special enough, important enough for you to give up everything? That I wasn’t? Cause I reckon that’s exactly it.” She inhaled deeply. “I’m not blamin’ you for lovin’ her. I’m not blamin’ you for the fact that I wasn’t enough. But don’t you sit here and lie to my face about it. Not again. Don’t you pretend you love me when we both know you left me to die, back there, that I didn’t matter enough to you to even take with you, to keep me alive. I know what I am, Doctor, an’ what I’m not. I’m nothing and nobody compared with the likes of her. With _you.”_ She sniffled. The first you got me hoping and aiming way too high, I get that, but you shouldn't have led me on, Doctor. Not when you knew how I felt. You should have been honest from the start and maybe we could have avoided all of this.”

“No, Rose,” he exhaled, unable to hold back any longer. “You’re wrong- wrong about all of it!”

“Please, stop it, Doctor, just stop.” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t do this anymore- I can’t keep lettin’ you build me up just so you can smash me down. You can’t promise I can stay with you forever and then chuck me over the minute someone better comes along. It’s too much Doctor, an’ I can’t deal with-”

“I was afraid!” he shouted, unable to hold back anymore, horrified at the damage his actions had wrought, horrified at what he’d made her think of _herself_. Rassilon, he’d made Rose Tyler think she was _less_ , and he’d never forgive himself for it.

Never.

“What?” She slowly raised her face.

“I was afraid,” he repeated, dropping to a crouch in front of her. “Of you, of what I felt...of what it would mean, of losing you. Everything, all of it!” He gesticulated wildly. “That’s why I pushed you away.”

She stared at him, and for a single, hopeful moment he thought he might have gotten through to her.

Then she shook her head.

“That doesn’t make any sense Doctor. You were scared of losin’ me, so you didn’t notice when I was missin’ for hours? You were scared of losing me so you promised I could stay with you and then left me to die on some death trap?”

“I know how it looks, Rose.” He tugged at his hair in frustration. “I know it’s irrational. But it’s the truth. I...you scare the life out of me, if you want to know the truth. I...you know, now, what you did- on the Gamestation, I mean.”

She nodded warily, her face white as a sheet, and he kicked himself for putting her through this when she was still so very, very sick.

When he’d almost lost her once…

He wrestled his thoughts back to the matter at hand. This was far, far too important to cock up.

“You did the impossible, Rose. I’d told you how dangerous it was, that it should never be done- heck, you saw what happened to Blon Fel Fotch. But you did it anyway- I don’t know how you convinced the old girl but you came back to that Gamestation a goddess- and you did it for _me._ ” He shook his head, willing his past self to help him find the words, but the other man was oddly silent. “I’ve saved a few people in my time, Rose, but nobody has ever done what you did to save me- that first night we met, and every time after, right up to swallowing the vortex.” He smiled in spite of himself. “And I don’t think I’m telling tales out of school when I tell you that I was entirely smitten with you, all those jibes about apes aside. I’ve never...no companion has ever fit with me, with the TARDIS, _on_ the TARDIS, the way you have. So when it came to it, it was easy to choose your life over my own, to regenerate.” He exhaled. “Except I’d never regenerated like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, the question sounding torn from her.

“Thinking of you, wanting you,” he said bluntly, forcing himself to bare it all. “To be better for you. I wanted to be younger for you, charming, I wanted to sound like you.”

He guessed that his previous self must have said something very like that because her eyes filled with tears. “I know. But...you didn’t have to. I loved... _that_ you...the way you were.”

“I know, but don’t you see Rose?” He inhaled, feeling as though he was skating on a knife’s edge. “I regenerated for you, after you’d come riding in on the TARDIS to save me. I died on your lips. I burned and all I could think of was you. I was reborn for you.” He inhaled. “And after the thrill of having you back and having you trust me had worn off, the fear crept in.” He shook his head. “I was scared, Rose, and I let it drive my actions. You’re right about the way I treated you, and I’m so, so sorry but it’s not, it was _never_ because you don’t matter to me, or because you’re not enough. It’s because you matter more than anything and instead of facing it head on, I ran as far and fast as I could without thinking about what it would do to us, to _you._ ” 

She stared at him, agape.

He shook his head. “When I found you’d been locked in that cage with the lupine wavelength haemovariform, I went mad, Rose. I couldn’t believe I’d let you be taken, that I hadn’t even _notice_ , but I also...I saw how easy it would be to lose you.” He paused, loathing how selfish he’d been, how selfish he still wanted to be. “And then when I saw Sarah-Jane, and how old she’d gotten, that she’d been waiting for me all this time…” He swallowed. “All I could see was you, Rose, with crow’s feet and greying hair and...you were decaying and it terrified me, because how could I lose you? But I knew one day I was going to, and how could I bear it? And then you confronted me and...I wanted so much to tell you, to say what you mean to me, who you _are_ to me, but I...all I could see was losing you, and I was afraid.” 

“And France?” her voice was soft, so soft that he’d barely heard it, even with his enhanced hearing.

He hung his head, hating himself for the selfish escape he’d sought. “I was afraid, Rose, I was afraid of...and then I saw a shiny, new mystery and I ran for it. It was never...I didn’t care for her Rose. Not like that. She was...you’re right she was a brilliant woman, with many gifts, but she wasn’t…” He sighed. “She’s not _you_ , Rose. She didn’t care who I was, what I was, she didn’t delve beneath the surface. She saw what she wanted to see. And you’re right- she wasn’t...admirable, but she was fascinating and it…it was an escape. That’s all it was. I never…” He exhaled. “She wasn’t you,” he repeated, unable to find the words.

“You didn’t care what happened to us, what _nearly_ happened to us,” she said lowly. “The robots nearly killed us.”

“No Rose!” he exhaled. “I was just being an utter sod about it because I’d arrive in the nick of time, and you seemed fine, so I didn’t dwell on it.” He flushed. “I just pushed it out of my mind.”

“You left.” 

“I…” he gulped. “I had to save her, there are fixed points she was a part of, but…” He looked away shamefacedly. “I admit it, I saw an escape and I took it without a thought. She needed me, I had to save history, so I jumped on the horse and ran without a second thought.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “It was never about _her,_ Rose, it was about _you,_ it’s always been about you. I was a coward, and I Iet my fear drive me to actions that...I regretted it before I’d even crashed through to the other side of the mirror. After it was all over, all I could think of was the life I’d left behind- the TARDIS and _you._ ” He eyed her surreptitiously. “It’s probably not much consolation but I was a miserable sod the entire time I was there, and Re- _she_ saw that. The minute she offered me a way home, I took it.”

“You went back.”

“I felt like a nasty sod just saying ‘thanks for the way home, _ciao!_ ” so I offered her a single trip as a gift, of sorts.” He sighed. “It was foolish, and it was playing with history. And then when I went back a few minutes later...she’d died.” He exhaled. “Whatever else she was, I’d promised I’d come back and she’d died waiting. For me.”

Rose looked at him, blank faced. “So you’re saying it was…”

“Nothing more than cowardice and guilt.” He barked a bitter laugh. “I seem to be very good at that, this go round.”

She didn’t answer.

Desperation rose to the fore. “Do you see, Rose?” he asked anxiously. “Do you see now?”

She shook her head, her pale face and lank blond hair a stark reminder of just how close he’d come to losing her this time. “I don’t...even if that’s true, even if it’s what happened, why are you tellin’ me this now? Isn’t that dangerous? Aren’t you just goin’ to run again, when it gets too much?”

“No,” he said, the words a vow. “Not any more. Never again.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. “What’s so different about this time?”

“I nearly lost you Rose- you nearly died! And I might still lose you- here and now.” He huffed. “What’s the point of worrying about losing you later if I’m going to lose you while you’re right here? If _I’m_ making me lose you?”

“So what are you sayin’?” she swallowed, her eyes large in her face, and he hated himself for the fear and uncertainty he saw in them.

“I’m saying that I’m so, so sorry, Rose, for treating you as though you didn’t matter, for hurting you and breaking your trust. I’m saying that I’m tired of running, tired of being scared, tired of living the pain to come and not enjoying the joy in the here and now.” He swallowed back his fears, forcing them to the back of his mind. “I... I want to enjoy the time I have with you, for as long as we have, for as long as you’ll let me.” He huffed. “You’re brilliant, you know, you humans- flinging yourself headfirst into the choices you make, giving it everything you’ve got. I could learn a thing or two about that, if you’ll let me. If you’ll-” he swallowed “-teach me. And more than anything, I want a chance to earn back the trust I broke, to show you that I mean it.” He inhaled. “But most of all, I want to show you that you _do_ matter, that you’re important, that you’re special, Rose Tyler. To show you the way I see you.”

She jumped, the blood draining from her face. “What did you say?”

“What? You don’t believe me?” He shook his head. “I don’t blame you, but Rose, if you could see what I see, if you could see just how brilliant you really are…”

“No that’s not…’She shook off whatever it was that had been bothering her. “That’s...that’s nice, Doctor, but what…” She took a deep breath, trembling. “I don’t even know what to think right now, what you want, what that means. I don’t know if you’ll go runnin’ scared again and where that will leave me. I don’t…”

Her breaths came faster and faster, until she was almost gasping, and terrified she might suffer another panic attack, he seized her hands, castigating himself all the while. “Breathe, Rose. Breathe, nice and slow, the way we did before.”

She mimicked his breathing pattern, slowly inhaling and exhaling, and thankfully, after a time (too long a time), she was breathing comfortably.

“All right?” He whipped out the port-o-monitor and was relieved to see that her pulse was normal.

“Yeah.” She looked away. “Sorry.”

“No!” He gently slipped a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “If anyone should apologise, Rose, it’s me.” He exhaled. “You’re still recovering and I've pushed you too far.”

She watched him for a moment, and he wished he knew what was going on behind her brilliant brown eyes. “S’pose we had to talk about it sooner or later,” she said finally.

“Later might have been better,” he muttered, mentally cursing himself and absently wondering where his past self had got to. He’d been quiet for an awfully long time, although come to think of it, he could feel him there, practically vibrating in the corner of his mind. What was he up to?

“Well, we’re talkin’ about it now.” She exhaled, rubbing absently at her chest in a way that made him cringe.

“S’pose so.” He cleared his throat.

“So what now? You want me to decide if we can...” she trailed off uncertainly.

“No.” He exhaled. “I don’t...I don’t expect you to trust me the way you did before, Rose. I accept that I’ve given you little enough reason to. I’m not asking you to commit to...anything. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“Which means what?”

“For starters, it means that you’ll stay here with me on the TARDIS, at least, for a while.” He swallowed. “Let me show you that I mean what I say, that I’ll be honest with you, that I won’t run away or abandon you ever again. To show you that I love you.” He looked at her then, with everything he felt and wanted to say in his eyes. “Please don’t leave me, Rose. I know I don’t deserve it, but please give me the chance to show you.”

“But I’m..” she trailed off. “I have to…”

“...deal with the effects of your trauma,” he finished. “I know, and I’m not asking you for a commitment now. You’ll be in control Rose, whenever you’re ready, _if_ you’re ready, if you want it. As you get on in your treatment, you tell me if and when you’re ready for more, if you trust me. For now, just...please stay.”

“If...if I do, you’ll take me to...to Jack or anywhere else I want to go if I change my mind, an’ want to leave?”

“Yes.” The word tore his throat, but he meant it. Her feelings above his, her welfare above his own- it was what she was owed, and what she’d always given him.

 _Finally worked it out, have we?_

_Where the hell have you been?_ He growled at his past self. _You always have plenty to say when I want you to shut up and then you take off when I need you!_

 _I was there and you know it. Where d’you think I was goin’ to go? Geneva?_ _I was waitin’ for you to pull your head out of your arse._

The Doctor growled in spite of himself and ignored the other presence, and especially hating that he was right: this was something that he had to resolve with Rose by himself.

 _This_ him.

“Wait…” She suddenly looked horrified. “You’re not going to...you’re not a shrink, are you?”

“No!” he yelped, understanding her panic. “I’d never...I’ll take you to anyone you want to see Rose, in any century, in any place. You need an independent outlet, that you feel comfortable trusting with...everything, and we both know that outlet shouldn’t be me. You need someone on the outside, a neutral third party.” He forced a quick smile. “Switzerland!”

She looked relieved. “You...can you help me find one? When I’m ready?”

“Course!” He beamed, relieved beyond belief that she’d sought his help with _something_. “I know a lot of doctors in a lot of centuries, Rose! There’s Zilkigia and Portrania and Lopund and Switzerland, the planet, not the country...I know people,” he finished, seeing her overwhelmed expression. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. “Did you...would you prefer to have another doctor? Medically, I mean? I can bring someone on board, or I can take you to a hospital…” He swallowed, loathing the idea but willing to do it nonetheless if it made her more comfortable.

She looked away for a moment before turning back to him. “No, I… want to stay on the TARDIS for now. Like we are.”

“Righto,” he said, feeling unaccountably relieved. “Good. Very good.” Suddenly, it struck him. “Does that mean…?”

She exhaled shakily. “You get that if you pull any of that crap again, I’m leavin’? I won’t let you treat me like I don't matter. Not ever again, Doctor.”

He nodded vigorously, hearts in his mouth. “You do matter, Rose, more than anything or anyone.”

“An’ that I can’t...I’m not promisin’ anything beyond a chance. I don’t...you know I don’t trust you now.”

He flinched and nodded again. Vigorously. Absently, he wondered if it was possible for his head to become detached from his neck.

“An’ I can’t...you won’t push me, yeah? I can’t...I’m a mess, Doctor, and I don’t know what I, when…”

“Rose,” he broke in, needing her to understand. “I know you’re not...I won’t push you for anything. All I want, all I’m asking for, is that you stay with me a while longer, and let me prove to you that I’m the same man who took your hand in that basement. The same man who died for you. The man who loves you, the man you used to trust. Let me prove myself to you. Anything more is up to you, if and when you want it.”

“You mean it?”

“I do,” he vowed, hearts ready to explode.

She closed her eyes, biting her lip, seeming to search for...something, while he waited, respiratory bypass engaged. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to him, trembling. “I...one chance, Doctor.”

A rush of air escaped his lungs and he loved her so much in that moment, the brave pink and yellow human he didn't deserve, and in spite of his best intentions of being careful with her health, he jumped up and pulled her to him. To his utter shock, after a moment’s pause, he felt a tentative arm slip loosely around his back. He sighed in relief and buried his face in her hair. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, ignoring the jubilations mixed with warnings of his Ninth self. “You won’t regret it, Rose.”

“I better not,” she muttered into his jacket.

“You won’t,” he vowed. “I swear it.”


	12. Courage to Make Love Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are improving, slowly but surely, and Rose makes another decision. A surprise visit ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo lovely readers and HAPPY NEW YEAR! May the unmentionable year soon be a distant memory for all. Here is the next chapter of our fic, and people, we are FINALLY getting near the end of this fic! Next week will likely be the final (and probably lengthy chapter) of this fic, unless the muse says otherwise (in which case there might be another, but I doubt it so far). Here we get a look, a little while after the last chapter, at Rose and the Doctor and we get to see their progress. Things are a little better, but Rose is really seeing that she needs help to sort through her battle wounds. There is also a surprise in this chapter (because I can 't help myself), and we see, at last, the direction things will be heading in and that things will, eventually, and with a lot of effort, be ok. We've had the despair and the almost surrender, and now, we have the beginnings of _hope_.  
> Usual trigger warnings for the fic apply, nothing specific in this chapter, except vague references to panic attacks, self-loathing and nearly dying.
> 
> Apologies if this chapter isn't fabulous- I'm still not sure how I feel about it and I've been...not great over the last week or so, so apologies if it isn't what it should be. Many, many thanks to Rose_Nebula for her wonderful beta and encouragement, and to Saecookie, Gallifreyrose, Aintafraidanoghosts, isolus_girl and all the wonderful people who have helped me dredge this confounded chapter out of my brain and not set it on fire. Many thanks also to all who have commented/provided feedback- you really have helped keep me going when it's been hard to write. Thank you more than I can say.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and all mistakes are mine.

Several weeks (or was it months?) later, Rose wished for what seemed to be the hundredth time that the Doctor’s words and her own would be enough. She wished that opening the wound (she shuddered at the ill-chosen metaphor) and _talking_ , being honest with one another, the Doctor’s vow to try, and her willingness to _let_ him try, would be enough to make things as they had been.

But it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t enough to stop the waves of anxiety every time the Doctor spoke to her, and perversely, whenever he was out of her sight. 

It wasn’t enough to magically push things back to what they’d been, especially because she was so confused and she honestly had no idea what they had been.

It wasn’t enough to stem the barrage of self-deprecation, the never-ending thoughts that said she was useless, _worthless_ , that he didn’t mean anything he’d said, that he couldn’t wait to be rid of her, leaving her constantly worried that she was on the verge of being evicted from the TARDIS.

It wasn’t enough to completely erase the still-present tension between them (but it was less, now, and tinged with...something. Something like hope.).

It wasn’t enough to shield her from the horror of what she’d _done_ , what had almost happened to her.

It wasn’t enough to suddenly erase her trauma and eliminate the need for her to see a mind specialist of some kind, somewhere, some time. 

It wasn’t enough to stop her from feeling awkward with Mickey, nor him from tip-toeing around her as though she’d break, terrified of upsetting her in any way after that first fateful panic attack.

It wasn’t enough to stop the Doctor from looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read.

She exhaled. However…

It helped her, sometimes, to think that maybe, just _maybe_ , she might be able to stay on the TARDIS.

It helped her to hope that there was a chance, however small, that the Doctor, _this_ Doctor, meant what he said and...cared for her.

(She couldn’t bear to think beyond that. It was too much, just now. The hope and fear and _doubt_ that rose at the thought of him... it was too much.)

It helped her to see at least a trace of hope, the smallest chance that this Doctor and hers might- _could-_ be the same person, that he _might_ feel the same way about her.

It helped her because he’d said everything in spite of what she’d done, what had nearly happened, and he hadn’t thrown her out, despite all the trouble she’d caused, the honesty she’d insisted on. In fact, he’d been attentive to her physical health, and determinedly spent time with her each day (no more hiding away on the TARDIS for hours on end). He’d even, after she’d finally been allowed to move back to her room, taken up residence in the old leather armchair beside her bed that had sat untouched since the previous him, hesitantly answering questions, and reading to her. He’d admitted that he’d deliberately left Jack behind and avoided him ever since- not that she hadn’t known, but she’d wanted, _needed_ , to hear it from _this_ him.

It had helped her to adjust, slowly, to the idea of seeing someone- of having an outside, neutral third-party who was there to help her, to clean up the mess of emotions and thoughts that cluttered her mind, the seething mass that she could sometimes control and sometimes couldn’t.

So while it hadn’t patched everything up and turned the clock backwards, it _had_ helped.

A little.

And it had helped her make a decision at last; a very important decision that she should have made weeks ago. She’d had enough of waiting and uncertainty to last her a lifetime, so the very next day, she decided to bite the bullet and _ask._

+++++++++++++++++

“Doctor.”

He looked up immediately from the book he’d been reading. “Rose? What is it? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” she cut in. His worry hadn’t decreased in the weeks since she’d been released from the infirmary, and even though she was allowed to walk around, now, he constantly warned her of the dangers of over-tiring herself. “Was just...thinking.”

“Thinking is brilliant!” he beamed. “Love thinking, me! Lots of big, brainy, brilliant ideas.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the shelves behind him. “Well, I was thinkin’...I...it’d be nice to…”

He blinked. “Nice to what?” If you’re thinking of snowboarding on Kopau again, I told you that you need at least another-”

“No, no ‘s not the snowboarding.” She exhaled. “Was just...I…”

He closed his book and gave her his full attention. “What is it, Rose?”

She sighed. “I just thought it would...did you mean it? Before? That we could find Jack?”

“I...yes, it should be easy enough.” His face was blank. “Are you…?”

“‘M not goin’ anywhere!” she broke in hastily. “I just...I really want to see him, you know? I...he’s my friend, an’ I…”

He visibly relaxed. “Right, yeah. Shouldn’t be too hard to find him really- the TARDIS knows his biosignature and besides.” He rolled his eyes. “If all else fails, I’ll look for the string of arrest warrants sure to follow him through time and space.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!” He almost looked offended.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Whatever you reckon, Doctor.”

“Oi!” 

She shrugged, dropping into her usual chair. The walk from her room to the library had tired her more than she thought it would. “What? ‘M not saying anything.”

“You are too!” he squawked indignantly. “You’re insinuating! You’re making _insulting insinuations_ , Rose!” 

She snorted. “An’ what, that’s disrupting your grand view of your genius brain? Can’t see how.”

“Because it’s _outrageous_ , Rose! It’s a matter of logic! And science! It’s statistical probability- I’m a genius and I have a big, bountiful brain capable of making judicious judgements, so therefore I’m bound to be right 99.99% of the time!” He paused. “Well, almost.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, disquieted by his sudden reference to the elephant in the room.

Seeming to shake himself out of it, he grinned.

“Nonetheless Rose Tyler, you have to admit that I have a big brain!”

She smiled, relieved that they weren’t going to delve into it all again, because she couldn’t- not here and now, not after she’d already had her allotted walk through the TARDIS’ garden and had seemingly used up all the energy she’d ever had.

And somehow, it was a small ( _very_ small) comfort that he recognised and wasn’t avoiding his mistakes. No whirling and dashing and babbling this time. 

It helped.

“Never said you didn’t,” she said at last, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Right, well!” He folded his arms. “So long as that’s settled!”

She huffed and sank back into her chair, blessing the TARDIS for her comfy furniture.

The TARDIS flashed her lights happily.

“So.” The Doctor cleared his throat, his expression a little more serious. “What’s brought this on then?”

“I dunno, I just...I’ve been thinking about him, really, ever since...I found out he was still alive. An’ I just…” She sighed. “ ‘S not _right,_ Doctor, just leavin’ him like that. He was my friend, he was _our_ friend and we just...left him there knee-deep in dust and death and daleks.” She shook her head. “An’ I know we had to get away, that you were...but it’s been months now an’ he deserves better than bein’ dumped like rubbish on the side of the road.”

“Right you are,” he said, but the expression in his eyes told her he’d understood what she was saying. And accepted it. He cleared his throat, ruffling his hair. “So when would you like to go?”

She exhaled, suddenly anxious to get it over with now that it was all decided. “Now?”

He raised an eyebrow. “How about after a good night’s sleep?”

She huffed. “Thought you said there was no night on the TARDIS.”

“So there isn’t.” He gazed at her steadily. “Doesn’t mean you can’t have a good night’s _sleep,_ though, does it?”

“I s’pose.” She exhaled, knowing that he was right. It still didn’t diffuse the anxiety bubbling under her skin, though. What if Jack thought she’d wanted to leave him behind? What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he’d forgotten her? And what if he blamed her for being left behind?

“I’m not going to change my mind, you know,” the Doctor said quietly. “I promise that I’ll look for him tonight and take you as soon as you’re rested.”

Oddly enough, that hadn’t been her concern. “What if it takes longer to find him?” she said instead.

He shrugged. “Then I’ll take you as soon as I find him _and_ you’re rested.”

“K.” She shifted in her chair.

“I will, Rose,” he said softly. “I promise.”

“I know,” she shrugged, almost missing his expression of wide-eyed surprise. “‘S not that.”

“Then what is it?” he asked softly, sliding to his feet and strolling to her chair, stopping a little way in front of her. 

“I just…” She exhaled. “‘M just worried because what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

The Doctor cocked his head. “Of course he will. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because...what if…” She swallowed, unable to spill it all. “We left him,” she said in the end. “What if he’s angry?”

The Doctor seemed to understand. “Oh, I don’t doubt he will be,” he huffed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “He’ll be angry alright- blimey, he’ll be _livid_ with me.”

She cringed and looked down

“But,” the Doctor said emphatically, “not with _you_.”

“Why not?” she asked quietly, staring at her lap.

“Because.” He slipped a hand under her chin and gently tilted it up. “ _You_ didn’t leave him behind.” His brown eyes were steady, and intent on hers. “I did.”

“But-”

“Why did you stop asking after him?” he interrupted her. 

“I…I thought he was dead,” she said shamefacedly. “An’ that you were sayin’ all this stuff about rebuilding the earth because you...you didn’t want me to be upset.”

He smiled bitterly. “So whose fault is it that we never went back?”

“ I guess.” She swallowed. “But what if...he might have forgotten me, you know?”

“Oh Rose.” He crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. “He hasn’t. Trust me.”

“But how do you- I mean, we don’t even know how long or…”

“Trust me,” he repeated. “He’d never forget you, _could_ never forget you.” He laughed suddenly. “Surely you haven’t forgotten how many times I took him to task for...inappropriate behaviour, or… “ he swallowed. “Getting too close.” He smiled. “He loved you very, very much in his slimy, lecherous, inappropriate, not-good-enough-for-Rose-Tyler fifty-first century way.”

She huffed. “Not biased there at all, are you?”

“Well.” He shrugged unapologetically. “I was very possessive in that body.” He raised an eyebrow. “Still am, really, as he’ll discover if he tries his lothario routine on you again.”

Not sure what she thought about that, she looked down again, trying to gather her thoughts. Did he mean that? _Really_ mean that? Did he still want her (as he said he did)? Or was he acting possessively because it was what she knew, what her last Doctor had done, and he wanted her to believe him?

But then, she sighed, it always came back to the same thing. Why would he go to all this trouble of trying to make her believe that he loved and wanted her the same way her Doctor had done, that he _was_ her Doctor, if he didn’t mean it? Why would he bother? After everything that had happened, he’d had the perfect excuse to chuck her off the TARDIS and run far away, never to return. 

But he hadn’t.

Was it a game? Or was it her Doctor in his head, forcing him to do and say these things? Because he’d been like this for...weeks. Or months. Or however long it had been since she’d been...sick, since she’d woken up and since they’d had that excruciating talk, and he’d told her and she’d told him and somehow they were still _here,_ still trying. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

And how long _had_ it been, anyway?

“Doctor,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Rose?” He tilted his head, looking at her expectantly.

“How long has it been?”

He blinked at the change of subject. 

She swallowed. “You know, since I...since I was sick.”

“Ah.” He exhaled, dropping her hand and slowly standing to slip his hands into his pockets. “Weeeeell, in your time, I’d say about two months.”

“Two _months?”_ She stared at him, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I happen to be good with time, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She shook her head. “So I’ve heard. But...two months? For real?”

“Yep.” The strong pop of his ‘p’ suddenly reminded her that she had rarely, if at all, heard that sound over the last few months. She couldn’t help but smile, the sound making everything feel just a little bit more _normal,_ somehow. “About two months, four days, six hours, ten minutes and thirty-five and a half seconds, if you want to be precise.”

“Right,” she said faintly. 

_Two months._

Two months and however many days and...he’d kept at it. She swallowed. He hadn’t tried to hide, or avoid her, hadn’t tried to make her leave. He came to her room every morning to check her vital signs and give her morning medications, and, in the first month, bring her a tray. When she’d been able to move about a little on her own, the TARDIS had moved the galley next door and he’d hovered over her as she slowly tottered her way there, before rushing about to prepare her usual breakfast. As she’d slowly improved, the TARDIS had started moving the galley further and further away, and he’d walked slowly beside her every step of the way, chattering all the while. He’d sit by her bedside to chat with her or read quietly, as the mood took her, and had even watched her favourite soap with her, shredding it to pieces as they watched. He’d started meeting her in the library again, something he’d all but stopped since his last body. That wasn’t to say he spent every waking moment with her, because of course, he didn’t, nor did she want him to. He still spent time on his TARDIS repairs and occasionally checked on Mickey (who was off enjoying his explorations of the TARDIS’ various rooms and hadn’t complained at all about their lack of adventure. In fact, he’d disappeared for three days in the island room, and had to be dragged out when they’d worried he’d gotten lost). But he made it clear that she was a part- a very large part- of his day.

As she started to improve and really feel the lack of travel, he’d shared a few stories of adventures he’d had and people he’d known before she’d met him. It wasn’t much- a tale here, a place name there, and every now and then a companion mentioned- but to Rose just now, it meant far, far more than grand sweeping statements or promises. It meant that he’d started to bring her into the life he’d kept separate, that he was no longer keeping her in an isolated compartment in his life, one he’d seal shut the moment she was gone and never look at again. 

It wasn’t as though he’d suddenly spilled his entire life history, of course, pouring out tales of times gone by in overwhelming numbers, because he hadn’t. The Doctor was many things, but no one could ever accuse him of oversharing- not when it came to things about _him_. Even now, when he was clearly trying to open up, it was rare. He was tentative, and almost casual in his approach, slipping bits and pieces into conversation, and seemingly pleased when she didn’t act as though anything was out of the ordinary. She could see that it was difficult for him and yet... he still did it. He was serious about it, determined to share more of his life with her.

To show her she mattered.

And on good days, she found it, if not easy, then _easier_ to hope, to think that maybe he had meant what he’d said to her in the garden all those weeks ago, that he wasn’t suddenly going to change his mind and take it all back, or make her leave or push her away.

Because he was slowly, tentatively, pulling her closer.

On the bad days, however, the dark voice in the back of her mind told her that it was all lies, that the Doctor wasn’t sharing because he wanted to, but because he felt sorry for her, because his previous self was forcing him. It reminded her of how very little she was and how very much he was, and that no one, let alone a Time Lord, could ever choose _her_ , or could ever want her. Because she was nothing.

The worst part was, it was so very hard to fight that voice- she tried to stand up to it, to tell it that she wouldn’t listen, that she trusted her Doctor and maybe this Doctor, that even if she was no one special she still deserved to be treated as though she mattered, and sometimes, it worked, for a while. At other times, though, it merely made the voice louder, and the seething swells of anxiety and self-loathing, the utter certainty that she was nothing and no one, rise to the fore and nothing could stop it.

Almost as bad were the stupid, seemingly random things that could set her off- innocuous words or phrases in books or movies, or (even worse) when talking with Mickey or the Doctor. One moment she was perfectly fine and suddenly she’d be furious or utterly devastated and she had no idea why. She was tired of weeping copious tears the moment she was alone in her room, and pretending that she hadn’t whenever the Doctor came, far too casually, to check on her. She was glad that he never said anything about it, because she wasn’t sure how much more humiliation she could take.

In spite of what the Doctor had said, she couldn’t help but wonder if she really _had_ started to go mad. She exhaled, recalling that exchange for what seemed like the hundredth time.

_You think I’m crazy?_

_“Of course not! You’re not mad- happen to know a lot about mad, me.” He gave her a quick, tight grin. “You’ve been hurt, what happened to you with...with that ape was abuse, Rose. He inflicted psychological and physical abuse on you, and that leaves...marks, on the mind._

Marks on her mind.

She exhaled. That’s all it was, she told herself, all _they_ were- all the anger, all the tears and fears and anxieties. They were bruises, _scars_ from what had happened to her, and they could be fixed. They _needed_ to be fixed.

She’d promised.

“Rose?”

She blinked, coming back to herself. “Sorry?”

The Doctor was watching her with knowing eyes. “Alright?”

“Fine,” she muttered. “Was just...thinkin’.”

“Good thing, thinking,” was all he said. “So...shall I get started on tracking Jack, then?”

“I…” She looked away. “You don’t think he-”

“No.” His voice was certain. “He won’t. He’ll be furious with me, and maybe he has a right to be- and don’t you dare tell him I said that- after all is said and done. I was the one who couldn’t stand to be around him when he came back, but you? I have no doubt I’ll have to peel him off you, Rose. Trust me.”

_Trust me._

Why did it always come back to that?

She exhaled. As always, the question was simple. Did she trust him?

The answer, at least in this matter, was simple.

“Right,” was all she said. “Tomorrow it is. Or whenever you find him.”

“I’ll get on it.” He waggled his eyebrows. “This brilliant timeship of mine has a trick or two up her transdimensional sleeves. And now, bed for you, I think. You look about done in.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sittin’ down, Doctor. Not runnin’ the London Marathon.”

“I did that once, actually.”

Sha stared. “You what?”

“Yeah. When I was…” He exhaled. “In my last body. When I was...waiting for you.”

“You mean, after I said no? I thought you came straight back.”

“Nah, went off for a bit of noble questing, you might say, for about a month, and ended up following this loony alien from Zimborka who disguised himself as a runner.”

“I...you ran the London marathon?”

“Course!” He looked offended. “I happen to be quite good at running, me, and besides, I’m a Time Lord with a respiratory by-pass, Rose! You think I can’t run a measly twenty six-odd miles?”

“An’ an _alien_ ran it?” She blinked. “Well, _another_ alien?”

“Yep!” Another loud ‘p’. “Come along with me, Rose Tyler, and I’ll tell you all about my triumph of the legs.”

Before she knew what was happening, she was upright and walking slowly, arm-in-arm, with the Doctor towards the door.

“Did you just say triumph of the-”

“Legs! Yep! I certainly did and let me tell you, Rose, it was magnificent! Zimborkians have great long legs, you see, much like the Talking Tarantulas of Telpo, except they’ve only got two, of course…”

“Right,” she said faintly as they walked slowly down the corridor, the Doctor talking a million miles an hour. 

For a moment, everything felt almost as it should.

Almost.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

_Two days later_

_“Rosie!”_

The familiar shout echoed through the streets of _somewhere,_ and in spite of the Doctor’s many warnings not to run, she hurried as quickly as she could towards the familiar form in the long RAF coat, pelting at top speed towards the TARDIS.

“Jack!” she called, suddenly choked with tears. “Oh my God, _Jack!”_

“Rose!” 

That was all the warning she got as he closed the distance between them and ploughed into her, squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“Jack,” she whispered, laughing as she wept into his coat. “You’re here!”

“That I am, darlin’! Captain Jack Harkness at your service.” Another squeeze. “And for you, it’s _extra service,_ honey. _All_ the bells and whistles.”

“Perv,” she laughed. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to see him. “Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t proposition someone in the first ten seconds.”

“Damn, I’ve missed you.” He sounded choked. “Where the hell have you _been_ , Rosie?”

She exhaled shakily, uncertain of where to begin.

“Put her down, Harkness.” The Doctor wasn’t far behind, looking reproachfully at the both of them.

Jack reluctantly dropped her to her feet and slipped an arm about her shoulders, his body suddenly tense. “Yeah, yeah, I know, hands off the blonde. I’ve done the induction training, remember? And may I say, by the way, that you look _exquisite_. Love the new look.”

“Yeah, thanks. Just something I had lying around.” The Doctor scowled and ran his eyes quickly over Rose. “Looks like I’ll have to add ‘don’t suffocate the blonde’ to the induction training, you oversexed idiot! Induction, indeed!”

Jack frowned at him, puzzled. “It was just a hug, Doc.”

“Hugs don’t deprive people of oxygen! And _don’t_ call me Doc!” He turned to Rose.” Are you alright, Rose? Any pain? Discomfort?”

“‘M alright,” she said, starting to feel a heavy exhaustion through the giddiness. “Just...a bit tired from that dash.”

Jack turned to her sharply, causing her to flush with shame. “Dash? It was barely six feet!”

The Doctor sighed, ignoring him. “I did tell you not to run Rose. You humans, honestly- it’s a wonder the species has lasted as long as it has! No sense of self-preservation.”

“Oi!”

Jack looked between them, eyes narrowed. “What am I missing here?”

The Doctor fixed him with a firm look. “Nothing we’re going to discuss in the middle of the street- in _Cardiff_ , no less. Why is it always Cardiff, Rose? Come on, into the TARDIS with you.” Shoving Jack’s arm away, he carefully took Rose’s arm and led her back to the TARDIS, moving at what had become her usual, glacial pace.”You coming?” He called over his shoulder.

Exhaling, Jack followed them. “Aye aye, Captain. But then someone is going to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

The ship shuddered heavily as Jack entered, before flashing her lights merrily. 

“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart!” The former Time Agent grinned. “Looking fabulous as always, and oh! Is that a new nob?”

The lights flashed again.

“Oh, you naughty girl, you!” Jack giggled, stroking the console. “Nobody else can pull that off like you can.”

“Oh, fine, he’s here twenty seconds and he’s already propositioning my ship,” the Doctor growled as he led Rose through the console room. “Stop molesting her and get a wriggle on!”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Library,” Rose said, a little out of breath.

“Infirmary,” the Doctor said at the same time. 

“What? Come on, I barely moved.” She bit her lip, not wanting Jack to see...everything and suddenly grateful beyond belief that the TARDIS had moved Mickey and the games room far, far away. She knew she’d have to tell Jack what had happened sooner or later, or at least the bare bones of it, but it was so _good_ to see him, so normal, and she wanted to cling to that normalcy just a little bit longer. “‘S a bit overkill, Doctor.”

“We need to check you over,” he said stubbornly. “You pushed too far, too too fast.”

She sighed, looking at him pleadingly. “Can’t you use the portable scanner thing? Please? I just...I don’t want...”

Brown eyes fixed on hers intently, he stared for a moment before exhaling. “Fine. Handy-dandy portoscanner it is. _Before_ you two start gabbing. And you can wait outside, Harkness,”

Thankfully, the TARDIS had moved the library just off the console room because as irritating as it was, she _was_ tired. Moments later, she was sitting in her usual chair while the Doctor checked her pulse and oxygen levels.

“Bit shaky, but could've been worse,” was the eventual, gruff verdict. “Rose you can’t...you’ve got to be careful! You’re still very vulnerable and you can’t overdo it. Not after what happened.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I know! I just...it was so good to see him an’ I just...I felt normal for a minute. Like I was before, you know?” She shook her head. “Not the invalid you’re stuck with now.”

“Don’t you ever say that,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Don’t you ever. I’m not _stuck_ with you, Rose- I chose you. I _choose_ you, and I will always choose you. Whatever stupidity I’ve...I won’t give you cause to doubt it again.”

“Yeah but why?” She scoffed. “‘S true, innit? You _are_ stuck with me, an’ I’m not the companion you thought you were gettin’, the one you had before, am I? I’ve got all... _this_ , and now I can barely shuffle a few feet!” She shook her head. “‘S why I...for a moment I felt...whole. Like I wasn’t broken.”

“You’re _not_ broken,” he said fiercely. “You’ve been sick, Rose, and it’ll take time to recover, even with all of the advantages we have on the TARDIS. You just need time and patience.” He smirked comically. “And it just so happens that time is something I have plenty of.”

She huffed.

“I mean it, Rose.” He drew closer, causing her heart to speed up all over again. “Just in case that nosy badger outside thinks to eavesdrop,” he whispered apologetically. “But Rose, you’re not broken. You have wounds and we’re going to _fix_ them. All of them.”

She froze, shocked at how closely his words had mirrored those spoken by her Doctor, in the mindscape.

“Right, we have that clear? Good! Now, you need to hydrate, so I’m off to get a few things. Back in a mo.”

He was gone in a whirl of pinstripes, and she heard him telling Jack to go on in, with a growled _“Don’t_ push her.”

A few dramatic swishes of fabric later (only _one_ person could make entering a room seem suggestive), Jack was there.

“Rosie! Alone at last!”

She couldn’t help but smile at his exaggerated leer. “‘S good to see you too, Jack.”

“Then what are you doing sitting way over there? Come here, you!”

Before she knew it, she’d been lifted out of her chair and placed (very gently) on the couch. Jack plonked down beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders with an exaggerated sigh of contentment. 

“Ahhhh! Domestic bliss!”

Rose laughed. “Doctor’d have your head for usin’ the D-word.”

“Ah, but he isn’t here to hear us, is he?” Jack waggled his eyebrows. “He’s playing lunch lady...what? What’s the matter?”

_Lunch lady._

She shook her head, refusing to go down _that_ path. “Nothin’. ‘S just...I missed you.” She blinked away tears. “‘M so sorry, Jack. I’m sorry we left you. I didn’t know, an’ then he was burnin’ an’ then…” She wiped angrily at her face. “‘M sorry!”

“Rosie, don’t you dare. It’s not your fault!”

“But we left you!” she cried. “We left you behind!”

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asked pointedly.

She shook her head.

“Did you ask the Doctor not to come back?”

Another shake.

“Did you subvert the TARDIS to avoid going back?”

“No,” she whispered. “But I should’ve asked more than I did, I should’ve...I should’ve done...something.”

“But you couldn’t,” Jack sighed, hugging her to him. “There was nothing more _you_ could have done. It was up to the Doc and he...didn’t.”

“But why?” She whispered. “I can’t...I don’t understand. Why?”

“Because I…”

“Changed.” The Doctor stood in front of them, eyes noting their cosy position as he placed a tray of drinks and sandwiches on the coffee table. “Because he’d changed, Rose, when he came back from the dead. He became a fixed point, and I can’t bear to be around him. It grates, Rose, on me and the TARDIS- people shouldn’t be fixed points. So I...avoided him.”

“Right. And don’t think we’re not going to be talking about that later, _Doc.”_ Jack’s expression hardened. “My vortex manipulator burned out and I had to wait... _years.”_

“You did?” Rose frowned at him. “But you don’t look different.”

For some reason, Jack scowled at the Doctor before turning back to her. “It’s a long story, honey, and you’re looking a bit tired just now. Why don’t we come back to that after you’ve eaten something?”

She glared at him. “Don’t you try to put me off, Jack Harkness. “‘M tired, not stupid!”

“Course not!” He squeezed her shoulders again. “Never said you were. But I think this is a conversation that should be had on a full stomach.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m feeling a little famished myself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

She reached for her sandwich and ate it under the Doctor’s watchful eye as he nibbled at a banana. After she’d finished it and the fresh Parmentian apple juice, and after he’d seen her swallow her afternoon tablets, he nodded in satisfaction. “Right. I think the two of you have a bit of catching up to do, so I’ll take myself out to the console room. Shout if you need me. And Rose- _don’t_ overdo it.”

“Yes, _mum,_ ” she rolled her eyes.

“Oi! You watch your tongue, Rose Tyler!” The Doctor’s put-on look of outrage almost hid the worry in his expression. Almost. With a nod at Jack, he turned on his heel and strode out of the library, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t overdo it?” Jack cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell is going on, Rosie? You look like you’ve run a marathon when you barely shuffled six feet!”

“I…” she flushed. “I was sick.”

“With what? he demanded. “What did this to you?”

“I...had an infection,” she said, knowing she owed him at least part of the truth, after everything he’d been through. “A bad one, an’ I got really sick. I’m fine now but it's just takin’ a bit of time to get back into the swing of things.”

“Must’ve been a pretty bad infection if it’s got you laid up like this,” was all he said, blue eyes fixed intently on her.

“Yeah,” was all she trusted herself to say. “But I don’t...I don’t want to talk about that now, not yet. Tell me…” she sighed, unable to believe that he was here. “Tell me about you- what happened to you?”

Jack exhaled. “That, Rosie, is a very long story…”

She tilted her head, trying to smile. “Tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours?”

“Ooooh, that sounds naughty!” Seizing her in a fierce hug, he exhaled, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll tell you as much of it as I can. There are some things I can’t...I can’t talk about, Rose.”

Pulling back, she looked him in the eye. “Same.”

Looking intently at her, he nodded slowly. “I guess we have a deal then.” Settling them back against the couch, he sighed.

“It started on the Game station, when I came back…”


	13. The Course of True Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody said it would be easy- but she didn't expect it to be quite so difficult, either. But it was worth it, in the end. It always was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Here is the new penultimate chapter- yes, that's right, in typical me style, I've decided to add one more- an epilogue set some time after this chapter- to be posted next week. So we still have one more to go! I decided we deserved a look at Rose and the Doctor a way into the future and seeing how far things have come (no hints but SQUEEEEEE!). So keep your eyes peeled for that next weekend.
> 
> In the meantime, this chapter is really about hope, and moving forward. About Rose knowing she can and deserves to ask for help, and that while it's a LOT of work, it's totally worthwhile. And SHE is worthwhile. It's about courage and friendship and love and trust- all those vital things nobody can live without. I hope you like this chapter, which gives us several different glimpses at different points of Rose and team TARDIS (it makes me so happy just writing that) as they progress in this difficult journey. I hope you like it.
> 
> Many thanks to Aintafraidanoghosts and Rose_Nebula for encouraging me to post and not throw this thing into the bin, and as always, MANY HUGE HUGS TO ROSE-NEBULA FOR HER MAGNIFICENT AND THOROUGH BETA. You are the most magnificent of people <3 Thanks also to GallireyRose, witchy-woman and Melusine for their encouragement to post this thing and stop butchering it. I've had a difficult week so apologies if this isn't what it should be- all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Only general trigger warning applies for this chapter.
> 
> Hope you enjoy (or don't hate this) and on with the show!

Jack had always been much cleverer than he let on.

That wasn’t to say he pretended to be daft, but he played the part of a happy, lecherous fool so well that people didn’t realise that he saw more than he let on and said less than he thought. Rose had certainly never thought him stupid by any means (how could she, when he was so clever?), but she’d been so very surprised, in the beginning, by just how much he saw, how much he’d been able to read between the lines.

She’d also forgotten how well he knew her and how easily he could read her.

They’d talked for hours, that first day, until she was drooping with exhaustion and the Doctor had swooped in to carry her off to bed, glaring at Jack all the while, but Rose wasn’t sorry. She’d missed Jack so much and her guilt at realising they’d left him behind and what she’d _done_ was immense. Jack had explained what had happened to him, and she’d finally understood what the Doctor had meant about Jack being a fixed point. She’d been horrified to hear that not only had she brought him back from the dead, but had apparently condemned him to an eternity of dying and coming back to life. 

*****************************************

 _“I’m sorry_ ,” _she sobbed. “I’m so sorry Jack! I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to!”_

_“Don’t be sorry Rosie, I know you didn’t.” He comforted her, pulling her close. “It was a shock at first and I’m used to it now. It was hard the first few times, but after that? Piece of cake.”_

_“Stop tryin’ to make me feel better,” she sniffled, poking him in the shoulder. “I don’t deserve it.”_

_“No, Rose.” His tone was unusually firm. “You...this happened because you cared about me.” His voice had cracked. “You loved me so much that you brought me back from the dead- how can I be angry about that?”_

_“Yeah but I didn’t just do that, did I? I mucked it up and now you can’t die!_ _“_

 _“Alright, so you could have used a bit of work on the fine-tuning.” He rolled his eyes. “Rosie, you used the power of the Vortex! There’s no manual for that, and no one has ever done it! I’m amazed you managed to do what you did.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment. “That you_ wanted _to do what you did.” He waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Not that I can blame you- handsome hunk that I am.”_

_“Prat,” she muttered._

_“But a handsome prat!” He leered. “So handsome you couldn’t live without another peek at my cheeky derriere.”_

_She couldn’t help laughing at his outrageous means of cheering her up. She’d missed it. “Shut up, you perv.”_

_“That’s better,” he smiled. “Much better. “You’re not made for sadness, Rosie. And I’ll tell you here and now- you have nothing to be sorry about, and if I’m angry with anyone, it sure as hell isn’t you.”_

_She wisely chose not to probe further, knowing how furious he was- how furious he_ **_deserved_ ** _to be- with the Doctor who had known what had happened to him and yet chosen to leave him behind._

_And then, finally, when it couldn’t be avoided any longer, they talked about her._

_She’d been too ashamed to tell him everything, especially that she’d almost caused her own death because she’d been too afraid to go to the Doctor for medical help, but she had told him the bare bones- including, reluctantly, that the Doctor had left her and Mickey on the space station in the future to go after Madame de Pompadour. Unsurprisingly, Jack had been incredulous, and utterly furious, only containing his reaction when he saw how much the topic had upset her. He’d taken a deep breath and, clearly ignoring his own rage on the matter, changed the subject._

_She’d never loved him as much as she had in that moment._

_They’d spoken for hours, mourning the loss of the Doctor they’d known and loved, and talking a little about this one. Rose had made a point of telling Jack that while this Doctor had made a poor start and given her cause to doubt, he was working overtime to prove himself now. She’d even shared that the Doctor had been talking about his planet, which Jack had heard in utter disbelief._

_Apparently, though, it hadn’t been enough, because the next morning, she awoke to find Jack growling at the Doctor in the kitchen. She stood out of the doorway, just out of sight, listening to the scene unfold._

_“Bad enough you dumped me, and left me without a clue about what had happened or where you were,” he snarled at the Doctor, who’d stood with jaw clenched. “But Rose? You abandoned_ **_Rose_ ** _? If anything could show me that you’re not the same man, that would be it.”_

_The Doctor flinched, and said nothing._

_“He’d have cut off his right hand before leaving her on that dump! What were you thinking?”_

_“That’s none of your business,” the Doctor said finally, his voice low and fierce. “It’s between me and Rose.”_

_“The hell it is!” Jack growled. “Rose is family, the only family I have, and once upon a time she was the most important person in the world to you! Now you dump her to go after one of the most self-centred, greedy snobs in history? You’d damn well better believe it is my business!”_

_“Enough.” The Doctor’s warning tone sent chills down her spine._

_“No it damn well isn’t!” Jack growled right back. “How dare you? How dare you abandon Rose, leave her to die for that...that_ **_harpy_** _, knowing what you do about what Rose has been through?”_

_“What do you know about what she’s been through?” The Doctor’s voice was sharp._

_“You know good and well the bastard she was with before abused her.”_

_Rose closed her eyes in shame. She’d forgotten how clever Jack was, how perceptive. She should have known he’d work it out somehow, should have known he’d piece it all together._

_“You knew.” The Doctor’s tone was suspiciously flat._

_“Of course I knew,” Jack scoffed. “It was obvious to anyone with eyes, and you knew too. Don’t try and pretend you didn’t.”_

_The Doctor had been silent for a long moment. “I guessed, but I didn’t know.”_

_“You knew enough,” Jack growled. “More than enough. You saw how she was in the beginning, you knew how she thought of herself, of you, heck even me! Or at least, the first you did,” Jack added pointedly. “No idea about_ **_this_ ** _you.”_

_“You’re a Time Agent, Jack.” The Doctor sounded tired. “You know how regeneration works, you know we’re one and the same.”_

_“So how do you explain this little jaunt, then- and abandoning the TARDIS, I might add? And don’t add any bull about it being none of my business because we both know that you owe me for taking off and never coming back. I can just about understand you leaving me at the Game Station when you were regenerating, but what about afterwards? Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you warn me, tell me what had happened? Do you know how many times I was burned as a witch? How many times I barely got out alive because I never aged, because I broke my neck and was walking around a few minutes later? I didn’t even realise that it was Rose who’d done it until I talked to her just now! You dumped me like so much trash and kept on going. I was your friend, I travelled with you- I deserved better, Doctor!”_

_“You did,” the Doctor said into the charged silence. “You did and I’m... sorry. Fixed point or no fixed point, you didn’t deserve that.”_

_“Damn right,” Jack seethed. “And Rose? What was your excuse for leaving_ **_her_ ** _on that disease-ridden junk heap?”_

_“She told you?” The Doctor’s tone was entirely flat._

_“She told me enough,” Jack growled. “She told me you left her on that cursed scrapheap and that she was sick shortly afterwards. Doesn’t need a Time Lord genius to put two and two together. That ship would have been a cesspool of pathogens after what happened to the crew.”_

_“Yes,” the Doctor said quietly. “It was”_

_The heavy silence was so charged that Rose had almost made up her mind to walk in, when Jack spoke._

_“So?”_

_“So what?”_

_“So,” Jack said through his teeth. “Why. Did. You. Leave. Rose? And don’t feed me that bull about needing to save history, because we both know you could have found another way or taken her with you, at the least. And don’t say it isn’t my business because what happens to Rose Tyler is always my business.”_

_The Doctor sighed. “It’s between me and Rose, Jack. I know you mean well, but this isn’t something I’m going to discuss with you. It’s private.”_

_“Don’t give me that,” Jack snarled. “She almost died, and while I respect Rosie’s right to privacy, I’m sure as hell not inclined to extend you the same privilege. You owe me, Doctor and you owe Rose. That woman has stuck by you through thick and thin and then some- what could make you leave her?_ **_She_ ** _wasn’t a fixed point,” he added pointedly. “So what gives?”_

_The Doctor didn’t say a word._

_“Not talking, huh? Alright, let me see if I can guess. Let’s see- you were crazy about Rosie, clearly still are, so what would make you do something so stupid and dangerous? Sounds like a panic response if ever I heard one- no thought involved at all. But what could scare a mighty Time Lord enough to make him panic? Oh, here’s a wild guess: a little worry about mismatched lifespans and getting too attached, maybe?”_

_The sound of a spoon clattering into the sink seemed unnaturally loud in the silence._

_“I knew it. That’s it, isn’t it?” Jack demanded. “Say it!” he shouted when it seemed that the Doctor wasn’t going to reply._

_“Yes,” the Doctor said finally._

_“Right.”_

_The next minute, she heard the sound of scuffling and ran as quickly as she could into the kitchen, just in time to catch Jack’s fist in both her own hands, the Doctor standing unmoving with a look of utter resignation and acceptance on his face. He had no intention of defending himself and she couldn’t take it._

_“No,” she said, panting from her exertions. “Don’t.”_

_“Rosie…”_

_“No, Jack.” She exhaled, trying to catch her breath. “Don’t. Not for me. I don’t…” She drew breath again. “No hittin’.”_

_She’d had enough of violence to last her a lifetime._

_Turning to look at the Doctor, she gasped at the look in his eyes; the guilt, the loathing...and the love._

_For her._

_She turned back to Jack. “Don’t...I know you’re angry, Jack, an’ you’ve got every right to be. I know the Doctor hurt you.” She drew a deep breath, stifling her emotions. “I know what that feels like, and you have the right to...I dunno, ask for answers, shout at him, tell him off...,but no….no hittin’. I can’t…’s not right.”_

_Jack’s expression softened and he dropped his hand immediately, his blue eyes suddenly understanding. “I’m sorry Rosie, I didn’t mean to-”_

_“No,” she cut in. “Don’t apologise to me- I’m not the one you almost hit. Don’t apologise for bein’ angry, or feelin’ the way you do, but there’s no need to make your point with your fists.” She inhaled. “‘S not right to hit people just because you’re mad. Use your words- an’ not as a weapon_ ** _,_ ** _” she added._

_Jack nodded shamefacedly and turned gruffly to the Doctor. “I shouldn’t have....”_

_The Doctor shook his head, his eyes not leaving Rose for a second. “Forget it.”_

_Rose looked between the two of them, the seething swell of emotion- the panic, the fear, the anxiety and the very familiar loathing- rising in her throat. “Right,” she said faintly, needing to get away from their knowing gazes. “I’ll just...you two need to talk without me here. I’ll be in my room if you want me.”_

_And with that, she painstakingly made her way back to her room, unable to believe she’d cut in as she had, or that Jack had been so incensed on her behalf that he’d been about to to hit the Doctor- and that the Doctor had intended to let him. As sick as it made her to think of Jack hitting anyone out of anger, let alone the Doctor, his heated defense and his obvious care for her nonetheless warmed her in a way she couldn’t quite explain._

_And the Doctor’s willingness to let himself be struck was both thrilling and terrifying, and she couldn’t bear to think of it any longer._

_To her surprise, he came by with a tray not long afterwards. “Eat,” was all he said, his eyes soft. “Medications on the side, as usual.”_

_She nodded, unable to say a word._

_It took her a few hours to manage to eat, rest, shower, rest and dress (really, it was ridiculous how often and how long she had to rest these days after any kind of exertion) before dragging herself to the library. The Doctor and Jack had joined her not long afterwards_. 

_Whatever had passed between them, they’d appeared to have reached a truce of some kind and neither of them ever mentioned it again. Rose was glad._

_It was enough._

***************************************************

Life had carried on in a strange, new normal after that. To her utter joy, Jack had told her he planned to stay on the TARDIS for some time, and after a quick trip back to his team to explain any potential absences (knowing the Doctor’s driving as they did), they were off. Oddly enough, Mickey had seemed to accept Jack’s return with no more than a “Oh, you’re back are you? Alright mate?” Thinking on it, Rose suspected that he liked having another person on the TARDIS with them, one who wasn’t caught up in this...whatever it was, between her and the Doctor.

And whatever it was was getting more and more intense by the day- but to her relief and utter amazement, the Doctor didn’t press her once. He didn’t push her to say a word, didn’t try to force her to say more than she was ready to, or confess to feelings she was beginning to suspect she’d never manage to shake.

Feelings she was in no way ready to face, yet.

They’d started travelling again, mostly to out of the way, isolated natural paradises as Rose slowly continued to regain her strength. She’d progressed from sitting on a blanket breathing in crisp, fresh air, TARDIS humming happily in the background and the Doctor standing watchfully behind her as Mickey and Jack scampered off to explore and swim (Jack _always_ in the buff, and clearly enjoying Mickey’s spluttering protests and the Doctor’s gimlet glare when he ventured too close to Rose’s blanket), to slowly walking along flat, simple paths. She’d been thrilled when she’d graduated to short walks along the sand and along the cliff tops, the Doctor by her side every step of the way, wordlessly spreading the blue picnic blanket and watching her until she sat to rest, panting with exhaustion. 

The only exception to their beach and mountain idylls in those months of recovery were the regular trips to the fifty-first century. 

It had taken her many months to make her next, all-important decision, but she’d mustered every bit of her courage and during one of her nightly chats with the Doctor, had finally asked him for a name. He hadn’t blinked, and to her utter shock, had nonchalantly pulled what looked like an encyclopaedia out of his pocket, with what seemed to be the name of every trauma specialist who’d ever lived. After prolonged discussion, she’d decided against someone from her own time (there was far too much she’d have to hide in her sessions) and had chosen a renowned counsellor and highly specialised trauma doctor, from one of the most famous centres in the fifty-first century. Jack hadn’t blinked when he’d learned where they were going, and in view of his own missing history and trouble with the time agency, wisely chose to stay on board during her weekly visits. He had confirmed, however, that Professor Elpi Jiacj had been very highly regarded in his time.

Rose had found that very comforting, especially when, on the morning (she ignored the cheerful voice of the Doctor in her mind reminding her that there _was_ no morning on the TARDIS) of her first appointment, she’d been so terrified that she’d had another panic attack. It had taken the Doctor an hour to calm her and slowly convince her to give the lady doctor a try. He’d sworn that if she didn’t like her, they’d find someone else. It had taken both the Doctor and Jack (who had assured her again and again that he didn’t think any less of her for either the panic attack or her fears) to eventually walk her out into the waiting room for her appointment. 

She hadn’t known what to expect, but to her utter surprise, she’d found that Professor Jiacj (who insisted on being called Elpi) was nothing like what she’d expected. Despite the many medals and diplomas on her wall, the older woman had been kind and personable, and surprisingly easy to talk to, and Rose had been amazed at the other woman’s reaction when she’d finally managed to get out why she was there. She’d expected the professor to respond with skepticism or doubt, or condemn Rose for the actions that had almost cost her her own life. She’d certainly expected some kind of dismissiveness or condescension at Rose’s humble background in comparison with her own illustrious pedigree. She’d expected, at the very least, the contempt she felt for herself every single day, for letting herself get into this situation, for almost killing herself through fear, for letting herself hope at any point that there could be anything between herself and someone like the Doctor, and ultimately, for allowing Jimmy to do to her what he had, and for thinking she deserved to ask for help.

But there had been none of that. Instead, the other woman accepted everything she said at face value. She’d never pushed Rose to reveal more than she was ready to, and asked sensitive, empathetic questions that seemed perfectly designed to draw no more from Rose than she was ready to give.

Most of all, without even knowing her, she’d treated Rose as though she wasn’t damaged beyond repair, as thought she _mattered-_ as though her feelings and thoughts and actions _mattered._ Rose had been so shocked that, to her utter mortification she’d burst into tears. The Professor had responded kindly and with empathy, sensing (or perhaps used to) Rose’s embarrassment, waving off Rose’s apology, and telling her that she had every right to feel however she felt, and she should never apologise for it.

The idea was utterly shocking, to Rose, and yet, hearing it felt as though she were standing on a new road with the power of a jet-pack behind her, ready to blast off into the unknown.

By the end of that first session, Rose knew that she’d be back, and over the coming weeks and months (the Doctor brought her faithfully in what he called _seven day-like but not weekly_ increments for what seemed to be months and months and months) she slowly came to understand what had happened to her and the effect it had had.

 _“It’s not your fault,”_ Elpi had told her, time and again. _“It’s not your fault that Jimmy Stone chose to hurt and manipulate you. It’s not your fault that you didn’t realise that you were being groomed to accept abuse, or that you were being abused. His actions are his own, and only he is responsible for them. The only person whose actions you are responsible for are your own.”_

It had been hard, _was_ hard for Rose to accept that, because the hated voice was always in the back of her head, all too happy to remind her that she was worthless, that she _deserved_ everything that had happened to her, and that it hadn’t been abuse at all, that she’d _made_ him behave that way. But slowly, over time, she worked with Elpi to process the thoughts and triggers that gave it power, the professor working tirelessly to peel back the layers of trauma, and find each and every underlying cause, teaching Rose to process and manage them as they went.

Together, they’d worked through Rose’s account of her history with the Doctor, and his betrayal on the space station. They’d worked through questions of broken and restored trust, and whilst she didn’t (and couldn’t, as Rose later learned) fix Rose’s trust issues herself, she _had_ given Rose the tools to rebuild her relationship with the Doctor and more importantly, with herself. Elpi had, to Rose’s utter shock, firmly agreed that Time Lord or not (something the other woman still marvelled over), Rose deserved to be treated with consideration and respect, and that avoidance was not an acceptable substitute for communication. She’d worked with her to reprogram and rebuild Rose’s perception of what a healthy relationship and self-perception should look like. They talked about Rose’s views of herself, and her own worth- her upbringing and childhood, her experiences, and things Rose hadn’t even thought would matter.

The sessions were demanding, and sometimes, particularly in the beginning, Rose was so tired afterwards that the Doctor would jump out of his chair in the waiting room and half carry her back to the TARDIS, where he’d put her straight to bed.

He was never far out of earshot, especially when the nightmares came.

Some sessions proved to be so exhausting that she wondered how mere _words_ and thoughts could drain her this way. Elpi had assured her that it was normal and that it was a good sign that her trauma was slowly being processed, one piece at a time, and eventually, things had started to improve.

Having Jack nearby was a boon, and before she knew it, they’d fallen right back into their old, familiar pattern- sharing confidences and giggles, and fighting over the Poitan chocolate. He never pressed her to share, and listened when she did open up. He never called her stupid, or belittled anything she said. While he wasn’t Elpi and it wasn’t his job to _fix_ her, it helped, somehow, to have her dearest friend in the world there to listen to the little bits and pieces she wanted to share and hold her hand during what had to be one of the most frightening and important experiences of her life.

Even better, he shared with her too, just as he’d done all those months ago when they’d travelled together with a gruff man in a leather jacket and a Northern accent. It meant so very much that he still treated her as an equal, that he shared his own troubles with her, and didn’t see her as some kind of basket mental case.

Mickey had been aware, of course in very general terms, of what was going on, but wisely, he chose not to comment, perhaps seeing, for the first time, that this was something he couldn’t share with her, and the best thing he could do was to simply be himself and be _there_. 

As for the Doctor…

That was, perhaps, the most significant relationship of them all, and deep inside, Rose knew that it had always been so, that the Doctor wouldn’t have had the power to hurt her the way he had if he hadn’t mattered so much.

If Jack had been supportive then the Doctor seemed determined to prop her up himself, mentally as well as physically, and by sheer force of will if necessary. True to his word, he’d not shut her out again. He continued his meticulous care of her (long after she’d stopped needing it, in her opinion) and had continued to share more and more of his past with her, to share himself with her in a hundred little ways that meant more than all the grand declarations in the universe. He’d continued, each and every day, to show her how she mattered to him, and how important she was. He’d even suggested, after Rose had physically improved enough to avoid suspicion, a trip to visit Jackie, whenever Rose was so inclined, and all the very many doubts and fears that she battled on any given day couldn’t stand up to what she knew to be a selfless and deeply uncomfortable offer. She’d managed (barely) to smother her laugh at the pained expression on his face. 

He’d told her more of his previous selves and even (grudgingly) permitted her to look through a photo album of his third self that the TARDIS had seen fit to leave in her room.

(He’d also permitted himself to whine incessantly at her laughter, and complain that if she was going to look at old photos, the least she could do was keep her giggles and opinions to herself.)

And slowly, she’d started to open up with him too- sharing more of herself, and feeling more comfortable in doing so, because in spite of herself, she’d been able to see more and more of her Doctor and less of the selfish, frightened man he’d been.

She was still terrified.

However, all in all, she’d felt _better_ with him- more of the easy comfort and camaraderie they’d always shared and less of the recent tension and suspicion. That’s not to say it all vanished overnight and everything was picture perfect, nor was she ready to share _everything_ with him, but it was _better_ , and slowly but surely, it was getting better and better all the time.

She was learning to trust him again, as he was trusting her.

It would take time, but they were going to be alright.

****************************************

The first time she realised that she trusted him was several months after Jack had come on board. The Doctor had promised to take them to get chips after her most recent session with Elpi, and instead of taking her to her favourite little chippy in London, he’d landed them on an alien planet in the year six thousand and forty-three. Mickey and Jack had scarpered off into the bustling town to see what kind of trouble they could get into, while the Doctor stood smirking at her, one brow raised questioningly.

“You coming then Rose? Thought you wanted chips.”

“I do want chips.” She folded her arms and arched her own brow. “Do they even have chips here?”

“Course they do!” He sounded offended. “D’you think I’d promise you chips and then leave you high and dry?”

“Cardiff instead of Naples ring a bell? London instead of New York, and no Elvis?”

“Yes, yes, alright, fine.” He pouted. “There may have been a _few_ instances of...miscalculation, but this time, I mean it! We’re exactly where and when I want us to be.”

“Which is where?”

“Wooble!”

“Do what?”

“Wooble, Rose! We’re on the planet Wooble, in the capital city Wooble.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re jokin’. Wasn’t that a joke from-”

“Blackadder Goes Forth! Yes!” He beamed. “The entire planet was named by Rowan Atkinson’s estate about a thousand years after his death- they thought it’d be a right laugh to name it Wooble.” He sucked his upper lip. “There may also have been copious amounts of hypervodka involved.”

“I can’t...that’s ridiculous! I can’t believe we’re on _Wooble_.” She shook her head. “But why are we _here_ to get chips?”

“Because Stephen Fry insisted on building a chippie here, of course. Liked a nibble whenever he came for a visit.”

“ _Stephen Fry?”_

“Yep!” The Doctor popped his p so loudly that passers by looked askance at them. “Stephen Fry the Sixty-Third, that is. Descendent of a hundredth cousin thrice removed of the original Stephen Fry, or something like that.”

“Right,” she said faintly. “Course he is. An’ so this Stephen Fry decided he wanted chips?”

“Yep, he’s famous for his love affair with the humble potato.” The Doctor waggled his eyebrows. “In a manner of speaking. Managed to hitch a ride with a Time Agent by mistake, ended up on earth in your time, and the Vortex manipulator burnt out (you really can’t trust those things, Rose). He wandered into a chip shop while he was waiting for rescue and the rest, as they say, is history.” He paused. “Or the future, depending on which way you look at it.”

“Course it is.” She shook her head. “So how come _we’re_ here for chips, though?”

The Doctor grinned cheekily. “Because there’s something I want to show you here. And their chips are tasty. Thought we could kill the two birds with one stone.”

She cocked her head. “What are we lookin’ at, then?”

“Ah-ah, that’s a surprise.” He bounced on his toes, looking enormously pleased with himself. “You’ll have to close your eyes- no peeking!- and walk where I tell you. Can you do that Rose?”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts! Close those curious eyes, Rose, and off we go!”

She rolled her eyes before covering them with one hand. “Thought I was gettin’ chips, yeah?” 

“You will! You’ll just have to trust me in the meantime.”

“Course I do, you plum, “ she said without thinking, her breath catching at his sudden exhale.

“Right,” he said a moment later, his voice sounding slightly unsteady. “Surprise first and then chips. Come on, give me your hand, Rose.”

She swallowed, trying not to dwell on the suddenly heavy atmosphere, and gave him her right hand, keeping her left firmly across her eyes.

“You’d better not let me fall on my face,” she muttered. 

“I won’t!” he’d chirped as he’d led her along. “Trust me.”

And to her utter shock, she realised that she did. 

Oh, she was still afraid of being hurt, afraid that somehow, he might see what she saw when she looked at herself instead of whatever he saw now. She was afraid that opening up, that trusting him that little bit more would somehow end in pain. She was still afraid that he might meet someone better, someone more, and love them instead. Because how could he not, when she was what she was?

But in spite of all that, at this moment, she knew that she trusted him more than her fear. She knew that she believed him when he said he loved her, that he’d prove to her that he’d never abandon her again. 

And that alone was more than she’d thought she could ever give again.

“Right, stop there.”

His voice pulled her from her reverie. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yep!” Another loudly popped ‘p’- he sounded very pleased with himself. “Go ahead.”

Slowly removing her hand, she blinked. “Right, what am I...oh my God. Is that what I think it is?”

“Yep!” He practically quivered with happiness. “A genuine Barcelonian-inspired dog-tree- complete with dog-shaped leaves-”

“-with no noses!” she finished, unable to believe what she was seeing, tears pricking at her eyes. “You meant it!”

“Of course I meant it! Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because trees don’t usually have leaves shaped like dogs with no noses!” She turned to stare at him. “I thought you were havin’ me on.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” He folded his arms. “It’s genetically modified to produce the er, dog-esque effect. Bloke who did it ended up making a fortune- made trees with all kinds of leaves.”

She nodded, unable to speak, overcome as she was by a wave of mixed emotions because the Doctor _had_ promised to bring her here to show her this ridiculous tree- back when he’d worn leather and blue eyes instead of pinstripes and brown. It had been a throwaway comment, made during a laughing moment she’d not taken seriously at all, nor even thought he remembered.

Only he had. And he’d brought her here to show her.

She took a deep breath, and another, reaching out to caress the rough leaves to soothe her nerves.

Because he’d remembered.

Because he’d allowed himself to remember.

Because he’d made a point of bringing her and acting as though _he_ had made this promise, not a ‘previous him’.

And because she’d simply thought of him as ‘The Doctor’ who’d promised her a ridiculous tree.

“Did you mean it?” he asked suddenly, making her jump.

“Mean what?”

“What you said before, back at the TARDIS?”

She exhaled. She did, she knew she did. But was she ready to tell him? _Could_ she tell him?

However, seeing his hopeful expression, she knew the time had come. He’d given her so much over the past months, cared so much and been as good as his word. 

He’d loved her, did love her and even if she wasn't ready to admit the precisely the same, to show him _everything_ , she knew it was past time that she told him- and that he saw and understood everything that would come with it, with her, everything she’d told the past him. Everything he’d hidden from himself until she was ready to share it. 

Well, almost everything. 

She took a deep breath to still her fear. Would he still want her after he saw how broken she was? How damaged? Would he want to stay when he understood just how deep the damage and hurt had run?

“Rose?” His hopeful gaze soothed her a little and added a fierce hope into the swell of emotion. Because hadn’t he stayed through the worst? Hadn't he come to find her when she wouldn’t wake? Hadn’t he told her he loved her in the face of her open suspicion and distrust? And- her heart warmed- hadn’t he stayed by her side through it all since? No matter how quiet or suspicious or panicked or sick or anxious she’d been, he’d been there. Why would he turn from her now?

She had to trust him. Perhaps not with that last, final declaration of her feelings (and the sharing of self she’d shared with his previous self in her mind), not yet, but with the truth of what had happened in her mind, of _everything_ she’d said and suffered. He deserved to know as much; he’d earned it and it was time she repaid his trust in kind.

She took a deep breath, terrified and spoke the pass-phrase. “I...I trust you.”

He froze for an endless moment, brown eyes wide as the memories were released and she held her breath. Would he turn from her or would he look at her differently? Would he run?

He did neither.

Instead, a slow smile spread across his face, his brown eyes looking oh so familiar as they swirled with an intensity that she knew and loved, whether the eyes were blue or brown, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it even to herself just yet.

To her surprise, he held out his hand. “I want chips,” was all he said, watching her intently.

“Bring your wallet this time?” was all she trusted herself to say, feeling as though the breath had been stolen from her lungs.

“Might’ve done. And I could be induced to share.” He fixed her with an intense look that said things she wasn’t ready to hear, just now, wasn’t sure she could take. “Better with two,” was all he said, watching her intently.

And with a deep draw on courage she didn’t know she had, she took a deep breath and placed her hand in his.

“Better with two.” 

His eyes glowed. _“Brilliant. Allons-y!”_

And with that, they walked off into...possibility. 

And hope.

Things weren’t perfect. She still had a lot to process, and frankly, so did he. She wasn’t ready to share herself with no holds barred, yet, and maybe neither was he- not _this_ him, at any rate. But she was Rose Tyler and he was the Doctor, and together they were Rose Tyler and the Doctor in the TARDIS.

As it should be.

_Fin_


	14. Epilogue: To Unpath'd Waters, Undream'd Shores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Runaway Bride- as it should have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo shiny people! I can't believe we're finally here- THE EPILOGUE! The very final chapter of this fic. Thank you all for coming on this crazy ride with me- I couldn't have done it without you and you're all fabulous.<3  
> I hope this brief look at a very different future with Rose and the Doctor (I couldn't help kicking Doomsday in the bum, repeatedly) will leave us all in a good place, and with hope going forward. There's ALWAYS hope, and no one is broken beyond repair. To that end, I'll be posting a non-fic chapter in the next day or two with a list of trauma, counselling and DV resources that my wonderful people around the world have sent me. Keep an eye out for that in the next few days.
> 
> I hope that you've all enjoyed this story, and I have to give a big shoutout to everyone who has encouraged me and left comments, the ladies on Fangirlia who have listened to me whine and complain incessantly, Aintafraidanoghosts for listening to me whine on chat EVERY SINGLE DAY, and finally, Rose_Nebula, without whom I could not have done this. She's beta'd every chapter, every week, no matter what crazy time of day or night I've sent them, and supported me emotionally and mentally when I was ready to fling a chapter into the abyss or set it on fire. I could not have done this without you, my dear. Thank you more than I can say <3 <3 <3 All mistakes are mine, and of course all recognisable dialogue from the episode belongs to one Mr RTD. I hope you enjoy!

_“Hello?”_

“Jack! Thank God. Are you in Cardiff?” Rose clutched the mobile to her ear, watching in disbelief as the Doctor smacked the TARDIS console with a mallet. 

_“Rosie! Yeah, Mickey and I are at headquarters. Why? Is everything OK?”_

The TARDIS jolted. 

“Behave!” the Doctor snapped, scowling at the console. 

“Oh my...hold on Jack- Doctor, stop smacking her!” Rose snapped. “Have you lost your mind?”

“She won’t do it, Rose! She’s resisting!”

 _“Rose?”_ Jack’s tone was suddenly sharp, all semblance of relaxed chit-chat gone. _“What’s going on?”_

“We’re flying down the highway, chasing a taxi driven by a robot santa, that’s what’s goin’ on!”

_“What? What highway? Where are you?”_

“London.” Rose took over holding down various knobs from the Doctor as he inched closer to the door. “Specifically, chasin’ a woman in a weddin’ dress to Chiswick, or wherever this robot is takin’ her.” She closed her eyes and ignored Donna’s screeched “Oh, you are _kidding_ me!” as the TARDIS scraped the road beside the taxi, the bump almost knocking Rose off her feet. 

_“Rose? What the hell is happening?”_

“You’ve got to jump!” the Doctor shouted, almost hanging out of the doorway.

 _“Who’s jumping?”_ Jack demanded.

“It’ll take too long to explain! Look, I need you to do somethin’ for me Jack- quickly!”

_“What do you need?”_

“I need you to find out everything you can about a woman who’s booked to get married at St Mary’s Church in Chiswick today. Her name’s Donna.”

_“Last name?”_

“Dunno. Once you’ve got it from the church, I need you to run it on every system you have- find out _everythin’_ about her.”

“Why?”

“Because she showed up on the TARDIS while she was in mid-flight, Jack! Just appeared in the middle of the vortex!”

There was a gasp. _“You’re kidding.”_

“No, I’m not kiddin’! I don’t have time to kid! I need you to do it _now,_ Jack, please!”

 _“On it.”_ She heard Jack barking orders to someone beside him to call the church, followed by the clack of a keyboard moments later. _“I’ll dig up everything I can, Rosie.”_

“Thanks,” she exhaled, staring in disbelief as Donna hesitated to jump out of the taxi. “Quick as you can, Jack! There’s somethin’ weird going on here.”

“Whatever that thing is, it needs you,” the Doctor pleaded with Donna, stretching out his arm. “And whatever it needs you for, it's not good! Now, come on!”

_“Rose? Do you need me to come there?”_

“No, not now, just...please find everything you can and I’ll text you the time and place when we land.” She hung up and watched Donna mutter about trusting the Doctor before finally taking his hand and flinging herself out of the taxi and into the TARDIS.

The door slammed shut and the TARDIS zoomed away.

However her relief was short-lived, because the TARDIS was groaning in agony and the console began exuding copious amounts of smoke.

“Oh my God! Doctor, what’s wrong with her?”

“Oi, watch your mouth, Blondie! Like to see how _you_ look, jumping from a moving taxi in a blooming wedding dress!”

“Not you, the TARDIS!” Rose rushed to the console. “She’s _shaking!”_

“So am I!” Donna screeched. “Thanks to you two! But you go on worrying about your space machine.”

Rose closed her eyes, praying for patience. “I told you, she’s called a TARDIS, and she’s just saved your arse from a killer robot. And she’s _alive,_ and she understands you, so unless you want to find yourself deposited at the end of the galaxy, shut it!” She turned to the Doctor. “She’s not goin’ to hold, Doctor.”

“We need to land,” he said grimly, clinging to a handle. “Soon.”

“Inside or out?”

“Out,” he said, gripping at the console. “She’s close to combusting.”

“The Estate,” Rose gasped, flinging herself across the console to seize a wobbling gadget. “Take us to mum’s- the roof. If those things come lookin’ for us, we can deal with ‘em up there better than in the middle of the town.”

“Right you are, Rose Tyler,” he said with a quick grin. “Allons-y!”

“Allons-y?” Donna snapped, seizing the nearest handle. “Who the hell says _allons-y_?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “I do. Now hang on tight because this is going to be a bumpy landing!”

“First time you’ve ever admitted it!” Rose couldn’t help but laugh as she hung tightly to a handle that had just appeared. “Thanks, love.” She patted the console in gratitude.

The TARDIS’ answering hum was strained.

“I’ll have you know my landing skills are usually just fine, thank you very much!” the Doctor squawked, tapping frantically at the console.

“Yeah, must be why you got me back a year late last time!”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Oi! Are we getting out of space or are you two just going to flirt until we catch fire?” Donna demanded. “Honestly, all the spaceships in the world and I end up with the intergalactic Bonnie and Clyde!”

“We are not!” the Doctor exclaimed indignantly. “You’d do better saying Shiver and Shake!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Donna demanded. “Honestly, you-”

“Incoming!” the Doctor interrupted. “Hang on, we’re going to land-”

The TARDIS landed with a mighty thud, jerking them all to the floor, handles notwithstanding.

“-hard,” the Doctor finished. “Everybody alright?”

“”M fine,” Rose muttered, standing painfully. “Just a bit winded.” 

“Are you sure?” He hovered over her, his face _very_ close as he inspected her minutely. “Are you hurt? In pain? Rose?”

She couldn’t help but shake her head at his hovering. Even though she’d regained her full strength months ago, and it had been almost a year and a half since her illness, he still worried. He’d been even worse since their close call at Canary Wharf a few months ago. “‘M fine, Doctor but you’d better get that smoke before we burn the TARDIS down.”

“Smoke?” He whirled. “Oh! Right, I’ve got this. Both of you, out!”

“Oh I like _that,”_ Donna muttered as she accepted Rose’s hand and rose painstakingly to her feet. “And I’m _fine,_ thanks for asking.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Come on,” was all she said. “Let’s get some air.”

They strode out the TARDIS to the sounds of the Doctor blasting a fire extinguisher at the console, and muttering apologies to his ship. They stood in silence, looking at the Estate below until the Doctor joined them.

“Well, I’ve put it out but she’s going to need a couple of hours, minimum.”

“Is she alright?” Rose turned to him, worried.

“Yeah, course she is, just needs a mo.” He shrugged. “Funny thing, for a space ship she doesn’t do all that much flying.”

“Yeah.”

“Sure you’re alright, Rose?” He inspected her closely, his eyes worried. “You’re not hurt? Injured? Unable to breathe?”

She blushed at the way he looked at her. Even after all this time, the intensity gave her shivers. “‘M fine. Promise. You’d better check Donna.”

He gazed intently at her for another moment before nodding and turning to Donna. 

“You sure you’re alright, then?” he asked cautiously, clearly expecting another outburst.

“Fine. Not that it matters now.” Donna was subdued.

Rose exhaled in sympathy. “Did we miss it?”

“Yeah.” 

“You can book another date,” she said tentatively.

“Course we can.”

“You’ve still got the honeymoon,” the Doctor said warily, watching the redhead.

“It’s just a holiday now.” Donna was looking over the edge of the building, unseeing.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” The Doctor cringed and turned to look pleadingly at Rose.

“Not your fault,” Donna said finally.

Rose blinked. That was a change. “Maybe not, but we still want to help,” she said softly, warily approaching the other woman, and noticing for the first time that the air was chilly and Donna was clad only in a wedding dress. “You must be cold.”

Donna shivered. “Yeah, a bit.”

“I have a jacket,” the Doctor offered, slipping it off.

“‘S alright, I have one of mine hanging in the console room,” Rose cut in, seeing the scathing look Donna directed at the jacket. “I’ll get it.”

“Hope it’s bigger than this,” Donna muttered, glancing briefly at the Doctor’s suit jacket. “This wouldn’t fit a rat.”

“Well there’s no need to be _rude_ ,” the Doctor huffed, slipping the jacket back on as Rose ducked briefly inside. “I was just being _polite.”_

“This is you being polite?” Donna demanded. 

“Yes!” The Doctor sounded offended. “Rose says I have to.” He huffed. “Even when people make it hard to be,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Donna barked.

“Nothing!” the Doctor squeaked, and Rose couldn’t help but smile as she rifled through the coats hanging in the console room, wondering why on earth they hadn’t thought to chuck that wretched orange space suit away. She still had nightmares about the Doctor being trapped in that pit.

“So, you and Blondie-”

“Her name is _Rose_ ,” the Doctor cut in indignantly. “Rose Tyler.”

“Rose, then. You’re a thing?”

“A thing?” the Doctor sounded confused. “What kind of thing? We’re not things. We’re people!”

Rose bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she finally found the jacket.

“Well, I dunno what you aliens call it! Are you together? Married? Partners? I dunno, mated?”

 _“Mated!_ We’re not animals!” The Doctor was outraged. “Besides, Rose isn’t an alien.”

“She’s not?” Donna sounded disbelieving and Rose decided she’d left them long enough. Knowing the Doctor, he was going to be smacked, and soon.

“Nope! She’s human. _Brilliantly_ human.”

“Not from Mars then?”

“Nope, ‘fraid not,” Rose grinned, strolling out with the jacket. “Here you are- nice and warm. You’ll need it while we’re standing about in this December air.” She shivered. “Forgot how cold it gets here sometimes.”

“You know London then?” Donna reluctantly slipped on the warm Kalpesian jacket.

Rose grinned. “Lived here most of my life- this is where I grew up. Literally, right here. My mum still lives in this block of flats.”

The Doctor froze. “Jackie isn’t home, is she?”

Rose paused. “Dunno. But if she is, she’s probably heard us.”

The Doctor gulped and turned to the TARDIS. “There’s an incentive for a quick recovery and repair, if ever I heard one.”

Rose hid a smile. “Better pray she’s not.”

“Yeah.” He turned to her with wild eyes. 

“I hate to break up this lovely chit-chat,” Donna interrupted. “But would somebody mind telling me why I was abducted and almost killed by a robot santa?”

Naturally, the Doctor ignored her question. “S’pose we’d better look at masking while we’re waiting for the TARDIS to repair herself- and I don’t just mean from Jackie.”

“Right.” Rose rolled her eyes. “If you’re lookin’ for the bio-dampers, they’re in your right pocket, from that time on Zerpebia- when we were bein’ chased by the creepy space piglets.”

“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “The Zorps. Have to love the Zorps- even if they did want to eat us.” At an impatient twitch from Donna, however, he cleared his throat. “Right, bio-dampers.” He dug into his pocket, frowning for a moment. “Ah, here we go! One basic model, coming right up!” he dug a gold wedding band out of his pocket and waved it triumphantly. “With this ring-”

“Doctor! Not that one!” Rose hissed, seeing the expression on Donna’s face. “Find a different one!”

“What? Why?” Catching her pointed glance at Donna, however, he flushed. “Ah. Yes. Never mind. Basic model won’t do here- let’s see what else we have...aha! Knew it was in here somewhere.” He waved the brooch around excitedly. “Here you are Donna, one first-class bio-damper, complete with style and all for the low price of nothing!”

The redhead rolled her eyes as eyed the brooch. “What does it do?”

“These creatures can trace you, and this brooch is a bio-damper- should keep you hidden.”

Donna hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Donna, please.” Rose turned to the other woman. “We have no idea why those things want you or how they even found you, but whatever it is isn’t good. What does it hurt to wear this thing for a few hours until we sort this out?”

“Fine,” the redhead exhaled after a tense moment of silence. “Fine. Give it to me.” Seizing the brooch, she pinned it onto her dress and folded her arms. “Now what?”

“Now we wait.” The Doctor cast a longing look at the TARDIS. “And we chat.”

 _“Chat?”_ Donna was incredulous.

“Yep.”

Rose was fairly certain that if the Doctor popped another ‘p’, Donna was going to slap him.

“Chat. About. What?” Donna seethed through clenched teeth.

“Why they’re chasing you, obviously.” The Doctor looked at Donna as though she were mad. “What else?”

“That’s exactly what I asked a few minutes ago,” Donna growled. “And you ignored it.”

The Doctor cleared his throat, clearly sensing danger. “Right, well, good question. What do camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you? And how did you get inside the Tardis? I don't know….” He sucked his upper lip in thought. “What's your job?”

“I’m a secretary.”

Seeing the Doctor about to open his mouth (and almost certainly about to get himself slapped), Rose cut in hastily, fixing the Doctor with a glare. “Where do you work?”

“H.C. Clements.” Donna inhaled. “It’s where I met Lance- I was temping.”

Rose smiled. “Bit of a sweetheart, was he?”

“Yeah.” Donna smiled. “He got me coffee- and him the head of HR! Heads of HR don’t get the secretaries coffee.”

“Sounds like a good one. So tell us more,” Rose encouraged. “When was this?”

“Six months ago.”

The Doctor stared. “Six months? Blimey, that’s qui-”

“What does H.C. Clements do?” Rose interrupted, glaring at the Doctor. 

“Security Systems. You know, entry codes, ID cards, that sort of thing. If you ask me, it's a posh name for locksmiths.”

Rose opened her mouth to ask another question, only to be interrupted by a _very_ familiar voice.

“You!” Jackie Tyler screeched, charging at the Doctor. 

The Doctor gulped. “Blimey.”

“I’ll give you _blimey!_ I’ve been waitin’ for you, mate!”

“Mum-”

“Don’t you mum me, Rose Tyler! You’re not too old to be put over my knee! And as for that ruddy alien of yours.” She fixed her glare on the Doctor. “You’ve broken my telly, you have!”

“Ah.” The Doctor grimaced.

“All it picks up now is the space news from some alien planet! I can’t get my shows and you’re not leaving this building until you fix it.”

“What? Look Blondie,” Donna glared, “ I’ve already missed my wedding and been abducted by killer robots-”

The Doctor shook his head frantically at Donna. “Don’t, Donna! Don’t!”

“Shut it, Martian boy- I’ll say what I bloody well want and we’re not hanging about here while you fix the mother-in-law’s telly!”

“I’m not from Mars!” the Doctor protested.

“Oi, shut it, you!” Jackie turned and glared at Donna. “I dunno who you are but you’re not getting in the way of my telly repairs!” She looked her up and down. “And what the hell are you doing out here in a wedding dress, then? On Christmas, no less? You’ve a nerve turnin’ up drunk!”

“I’m not drunk! “ Donna shrieked.

“Then who are you and what are you doin’ here?”

Rose swallowed. “It’s a bit of a long story, mum.”

Jackie folded her arms. “I have time.”

“Fine.” Rose took a deep breath. “It all started when Donna suddenly appeared on the TARDIS in mid-flight...”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

_“You had the reception without me?”_

“Donna, what happened to you?” A dark-skinned bloke dressed to the nines came forward, staring at Donna.

“You had the reception _without_ me?”

The room was utterly silent.

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m the Doctor- and this is Rose Tyler.”

Rose inhaled. This was actually painful.

“Roooooose Tyler. Yep.”

His usual popped ‘p’ sounded unnaturally loud in the silence that followed.

Donna turned to Rose. “They had the reception without me.”

Rose cringed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, it was all paid for,” an annoyingly nasal woman piped up. “Why not?”

Rose turned to Donna. “Let me guess- that’s Nerys.”

“Spot on, Blondie. Nerys the Nag, as she’s better known.” She scowled at the other woman, who squawked in protest. 

The next thing Rose knew everyone was talking at once, demanding to know where Donna had been, an older woman carried on about silly messages and tricks, and it seemed as though the whole world was pressing in on them until Donna burst suddenly into tears.

Rose couldn’t help but smile as she felt the Doctor’s hand slip into her own, knowing as she did how baffled he became when confronted with emotions he couldn’t immediately explain.

“Crikey, didn’t see that coming!” he whispered, squeezing closer to her. 

She shrugged. “She’s hurt that no one cared that she disappeared from her own wedding. And then to top it off, they decided to have the reception without her. They’re dancin’ while she was off bein’ hunted by robot Santas.” She exhaled. “Anybody’d be hurt by that. They’ve basically told her they don’t care where she was.”

“Right.” He was quiet for a moment, watching as the man Rose presumed was Lance comforted Donna and everyone applauded. “Didn’t expect the tears though- thought she’d tear them a new one when we walked in and found them bopping away. She seemed pretty furious.”

“I’m sure she is.” Rose turned to the Doctor. “Doesn’t mean she isn’t hurt. And I reckon she wants them all to know it and maybe feel a bit rotten about it- as they should.”

Donna winked at them as Lance led her away to the dancefloor, and the Doctor snorted. “Right again, Rose Tyler. Always with the right answers.”

“I try,” she smirked as the band started a new song.

“So.” He turned and looked her full in the face.

“So,” she said, her eyes on his, trying to keep the smile from her face.

“They have a band.” His eyes glinted.

“They do.”

“And the band is playing music.”

“It is.” She tried, she really did, to keep the smile from forming.

She failed.

“It’s nice. Sort of boppy. A boppy band.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You could call it that. What of it?”

“Fancy a dance, Rose Tyler?”

She raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Can you?”

“Nine hundred years old, me. I’ve been around a bit. I think you can assume at some point I’ve danced.”

Her heart began to pound because she recognised the look in his eyes: it was exactly the same look he’d given her when he’d spoken those words so many months ago, and his eyes had been blue instead of brown. 

“Doesn’t the universe implode or something if you dance?” Her words were breathless as she played her part.

“Well, I’ve got the moves but I wouldn’t want to boast.”

This time, she let her smile spread freely across her face. “You’ve got the moves? Show me your moves.”

“With pleasure.” He winked. “Not trying to resonate concrete this time.”

“You’ll find your feet at the end of your legs: you may care to move them.” She laughed as he spun her out onto the dance floor.

Together, they twirled and swayed this way and that; forgetting just for a moment about robot santas and bio-dampers and mysterious hitchhikers in the TARDIS, and just enjoyed the music and the closeness of the other.

She waved at Donna as she shimmied past them with Lance before the Doctor whipped her into another complicated turn and dipped her.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly. “Look at you, Mr Smooth.”

He waggled his eyebrows as he held the dip for a moment before letting her up. “It’s Doctor Smooth, actually.”

She groaned. “That was terrible.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But you love me anyway.”

“S’pose,” she laughed, shaking her head, unable to believe how different things were now from where they’d been a year and a half ago, unable to believe that they were _here,_ now and things were everything she’d ever hoped they could be.

Her physical health had improved, thanks to a careful regimen set by the Doctor, and she was finally back to where she’d been before she’d gotten sick. Her mind had slowly and steadily improved and she’d been seeing Elpi every week since that first day- even on days when she’d been so exhausted, so disheartened that she’d want to give up, to crawl into her bed and hide. Things had improved so much and she’d become desensitised to so many triggers that even _she_ had to concede she was slowly getting better. Better still, she knew she could and _would_ continue to improve, until her mind was her own again and none of the scars of the past had the power to hurt or control her thinking anymore.

Because slowly but surely, _she_ was taking control.

The Doctor had been as good as his word and stuck by her through every up and down, every self-doubt (his _and_ hers). He hadn’t withdrawn from her, even when it was clear that he’d wanted to. He insisted on taking her to therapy for as long as she needed to go, and refused to hear a word said about her being a burden.

That’s not to say things were perfect, because of course, they weren’t. As her health had improved, their comfort in disagreeing had increased, and now they argued as much as they ever had. Sometimes she stormed off in frustration when he started on one of his arrogant Time Lord rants, certain he knew better than everyone else, and she was fairly certain he was ready to scream whenever she ‘released her inner human-y human’ as he called it, and charged into a situation throwing caution to the wind.

Sometimes he’d get testy when they’d stumble across someone from his past, and his silence would infuriate her. But now, instead of his usual whirl and dash, he’d sigh when she came to apologise for pushing too far and he’d tell her, in little bits and pieces.

She treasured those little bits and pieces of his soul more than anything.

By the time the events of Canary Wharf had happened, and he’d caught glimpses of an alternate future- the future that would have been -that _could_ have been- she’d known, without a doubt that she loved him, that she _knew_ him. That he was _her_ Doctor. So in that awful, soul-wrenching moment when they’d stood, his words of a different future, a lonely and _broken_ future hanging in the air, she’d gathered her courage and told him. He’d been utterly flabbergasted before seizing her and kissing her ferociously, and she’d known, then, deep in her bones, that it was _her_ Doctor, the same man who’d had burning blue eyes, the same man who’d loved her and died for her...and the man who’d brought her back from death.

Things had been dizzyingly heady, after that, but even then he hadn’t pushed for more than she was ready to give. He hadn’t said a word about the fact that she hadn’t shared that final, intimate experience in her mind with him, that she hadn’t said _those_ words yet.

_I am the Bad Wolf._

Because she would. She knew it now, and so did he, and why should they hurry? She knew, even if he didn’t (not _quite_ yet), that they had all the time in the world and for now they were just _happy._

“Rose?” He’d stopped dancing, and was holding her close, looking at her in concern. “Are you alright?”

“‘M fine,” she smiled, reaching up to caress his face. “Just...thinkin.’”

His eyes blazed with an intensity that she knew all too well, the gaze her Doctor, in both of his bodies, had only ever turned on her. Because he loved her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, hello darlings. Is this a private party or do you take multiple bookings?” Jack suddenly materialized beside them, waggling his eyebrows and breaking the spell.

Rose rolled her eyes as the Doctor turned to Jack with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“Well, I like that! There I was, minding my own business, when I got a call about chasing taxis and robot santas.” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Ring a bell?”

“He’s really pleased you came.” Rose poked the Doctor before turning to Jack. “Did you find anything?”

Jack’s smile dimmed and he waved them off the dancefloor with a grim expression, leading them over to Mickey. “Yeah...you’re not gonna like it though.”

The Doctor exhaled. “Right, what have you got?”

“Yeah, hello to you too.” Mickey turned a glare on them. “You’re both ridiculous by the way- makes me queasy watching the two of you.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Come on then, Micks, get on with it.”

“Right, well, your girl is one Donna Noble, works at H.C. Clements as a temp.”

“We’d already gathered as much!” The Doctor folded his arms. “Don’t you have anything useful?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Graciou as always, Doc. And I’m afraid I do, but as I said...you’re not gonna like it.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.”

“H.C. Clements is owned by the Torchwood Institute.”

Rose stared. “Say what?”

“Yeah.” Jack exhaled. “The _London_ branch of Torchwood, to be exact.”

“But-”

“It doesn’t exist anymore, I know.” Jack looked at them sobrely. “We disbanded it a few weeks ago, after Canary Wharf. But it looks like somebody bought this firm up twenty-three years ago, and if this Donna is involved in anyway…”

“Her fiance is head of HR at H.C. Clements,” Rose said quietly. “Donna’s a temp there. They’ve been together for six months.”

Jack blinked. “Six _months?_ And they’re getting married? Isn’t that a bit-”

“Yes, yes, it’s quick,” the Doctor cut in. “Focus, Jack! We still have no idea _why_ Torchwood is interested in Donna- because mark my words, it’s them. They’ve shown no compunction at all about meddling in things they don’t understand.”

“Here, boss,” Mickey cut in. “There hasn’t been no Torchwood London for the past few weeks. I should know- closed it myself.”

Mickey had decided to return to Cardiff with Jack after Canary Wharf, and Rose was glad for him. Jack had offered him the chance to grow, and have his own adventures instead of being their third-wheel, and he’d taken it. By the sounds of it, he was enjoying it.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “But it _was_ there for the last six months, Mickey, and just because you’ve closed the office doesn’t mean that there aren’t some of the old gang lurking about with unfinished business. Or worse, someone else has come in and taken over the operation.” He exhaled in frustration. “If only I could work out _why._ What do they want with Donna, and what did they do that landed her on the TARDIS?”

Jack passed him his mobile. “We managed to find this- one of the guests has posted it to My Space. It’s the footage of when she disappeared.”

“Right, she’s walking up the aisle, goose stepping as you humans do, no idea why, and then...oh. _Oh._ This is very, very not good. That's impossible. That's ancient!”

“What?” Rose demanded. “It looked like...if I didn’t know better I’d say it was Artron energy- like when you regenerated.”

“It isn’t.” He turned to her, eyes wide. “I....that looks like Huon particles.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re deadly. And defunct! Huon energy doesn't exist anymore, not for billions of years.” He swallowed. “We got rid of them- my people did. They unravel the atomic structure. And they can’t be hidden by a bio-damper.”

“Oh my God.” Rose turned and dashed into the middle of the wiggling dancers. “Donna! Donna! They’ve found you! You have to get out! Get everyone out!”

“But I was supposed to be safe.” Donna looked almost vulnerable.

“The bio-damper doesn’t work- not with you. Come on, we’ve got to get everyone out!”

“Too late!” Mickey called from near the doors, peering outside. “They’re here. And we’re trapped.”

“Bugger.” The Doctor turned and, waving his sonic, cut off the music. “Stay away from the trees! Get away from the Christmas trees!”

“But-” An older woman Rose thought might be Donna’s mum began, only to have the Doctor whirl on her. 

“But nothing! Get away from the trees!”

“Too late!” Jack called, drawing his gun as the baubles rose into the air and six santas lined up in front of the bar. “Everybody take cover!”

“Oh, honestly, do you always think with your weapon, Harkness?” 

Rose rolled her eyes at Jack’s gleeful expression as she ducked behind the bar.

“Oi! Santa! Word of advice. If you're attacking a man with a sonic screwdriver, don't let him near the sound system.” The Doctor waved his sonic at the DJ’s desk and a horrific screeching caused the robots to explode.

Jack grinned. “Business as usual, eh Rosie?”

“S’pose so.” She shook her head as the Doctor muttered about separate remotes and people began to call for help. “Never a quiet Christmas since I met him.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way! And neither would I!” The Doctor called, striding over with Donna in tow. “Even if it does mean we have to go to your mum’s for dinner after this.”

“Yeah,” she grinned, inexplicably happy despite the chaos and ever-present danger. “I’m so glad I met you.”

His eyes burned. “Better with two.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Not too far away, another TARDIS stood with the Doctor lounging in the doorway as Rose laughed at him.

“How are you still so rubbish at landings?”

“I am not!”

Rose rolled her eyes. “So you _meant_ to land us in our own timeline however many years ago, so we could watch our younger selves fight killer santa robots?”

He cleared his throat. “There may have been a slight miscalculation involved. And it’s twenty-three years, four months and six days. To be exact.”

“Course there was.” Rose grinned. “Admit it, you’re a rubbish driver and you’ve always been a rubbish driver.”

“You take that back, Rose Tyler!”

She arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll make you?” His eyes burned with a look Rose knew all too well.

She smirked and sidled over to him. “Feels a bit strange to be standin’ out here cuddlin’ while our younger selves are in there bein’ chased by those creepy robots.”

“They’ll manage.” He shrugged. “We did, after all. Long as we don’t interfere, everything will play out as it should do.”

“Yeah.” She gave him a meaningful look. “It will.”

He caught her meaning, and smiled. “Soon enough, that poor sod inside will have everything he’s ever wanted, everything he never thought he could have- including a wife.” He tapped her temple. “A bondmate. And everything he’s ever gone through, every loss, every sorrow, will be worth it. Because it all led me to you.”

She leaned closer and kissed him softly. “Even if you had to wait so long?”

“Even then.” He smirked. “Besides, I’m a Time Lord, Rose. What’s a measly year or two in the scheme of things?”

“Yeah.”

“What about you?”

She blinked. “Me?”

“Yes. You.” He looked at her in the way only he could. Her Doctor. “Has it all been worth it?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back over the last twenty-odd years, of adventure and heartbreak, of trauma and fear and danger and of hope and life and healing and love. 

Always love. 

She turned to him with a smile. “Yeah. Every bit of it.”

He gave her the smile that was hers alone and pulled her close for a moment, resting his chin on her hair.

She exhaled. “It meant a lot, you know.”

“What did?” He pulled back, cocking an eyebrow quizzically before taking her hand and sliding his fingers between hers.

“That you told me you loved me, that you asked me to marry you and bond with you before you even knew about the changes.”

He smiled and kissed her. “I’d do it again. That fool inside will do it again for me, soon enough.” He huffed. “Was a heck of a shock, though. Naughty TARDIS, hiding the structural alterations to your genetic makeup all this time.”

Rose laughed. “She probably decided we didn’t need to know.”

“Cheeky ship,” he muttered. “I’ll decide what’s need to know and what isn’t.”

“No regrets, though?” She cocked her head, watching him, tongue touching her teeth.

“None,” he said huskily, leaning in to chase her tongue. “I’m so glad I met you, Rose Tyler.”

“Better with two,” she smiled, before leaning in to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come follow me on Tumblr at countessselena.tumblr.com


	15. Resources: DV and Mental Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! As promised, here are some resources that people have kindly sent me from wherever they are in the world. I know there are many places and orgs I've missed, so if you have ones you'd like to add, I'd like to invite you to post them in the comments for this chapter, noting where they are based (both state/province and country).
> 
> If you're in immediate danger, please call your local emergency number, and if you're in a DV situation or suffering from trauma or other mental illness, THERE IS HELP AVAILABLE. Please look at orgs below and REMEMBER, YOU DO DESERVE HELP. YOU CAN BE HELPED. YOU ARE *NOT* BROKEN. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. EVER.
> 
> Note: Please remember that broswer histories can always be retrieved, even if you delete them. If you share a device, or your device is monitored, please call the number listed instead, if you are able to make the call safely. Many services also offering service by SMS, if this is a safer option for you. Please be careful and stay safe.
> 
> Thanks so much for coming with me on this ride! You're all fabulous! Thanks especially to all who sent me the links below. Due to the volume of resources, I will be posting these in instalments in this chapter over the coming days.
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> ST

**GLOBAL RESOURCES:**

**She will survive (UN DV initiative): This is a GREAT resource- you can search by region or country to find resources in your country.**

[ **https://shewillsurvive.com** ](https://shewillsurvive.com/) **  
**

**ALBANIA**

**Emergency:** **General:** 112

 **Police:** 129

 **Emergency Medical Assistance:** 127

 **Abuse Hotlines:** _Phone:_ 116 127 and (04) 22 33 408 

****_Website:_ [ http: www.hotlinealbania.org ](https://hotlinealbania.org/)

**Suicide Helpline:** _Phone:_ 127

  
  


**AUSTRIA**

**Emergency:** 112

 **Crisis Hotline:** _Phone:_ 142

 **Abuse Helpline:** _Phone:_ 0 800 222 555

 **Support for Children and Teens:** 147

 **TelefonSeelsorge (** Mental health hotline): _Phone:_ 142

_Website:_ [ http://www.telefonseelsorge.at ](http://www.telefonseelsorge.at/)

**AUSTRALIA**

**Emergency:** 000

 **Australian Childhood Foundation** : (child safety and welfare not-for-profit).

  * _Phone:_ 1300 381 581
  * _Website:_ [www.childhood.com.au](http://www.childhood.com.au/)



**Kids Help Line:** Free counselling for ages 5-25. They offer phone, email and web services.

  * _Phone:_ 1800 551 800
  * _Website:_ [www.kidshelpine.com.au](http://www.kidshelpine.com.au/)
  * _Email:_ admin@kidshelpline.com.au (for information)
  * _Email_ : counsellor@kidshelpline.com.au (for counselling support)



**Lifeline:** A national number which can help put you in contact with a mental health crisis service in your state, 24/7.

  * _Phone:_ 13 11 14
  * _Website:_ [https://www.lifeline.org.au](https://www.lifeline.org.au/)



**Mensline:** A dedicated service for men with relationship and family concerns.

  * _Phone:_ 1300 78 99 78
  * Website : <https://www.dvrcv.org.au/mensline>



**Respect** : The National Sexual Assault, Family & Domestic Violence Counselling Line.

  * _Phone:_ 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732)
  * _Website:_[https://www.1800respect.org.au](https://www.1800respect.org.au/)
  * _Government DV services listing by state:_[https://www.respect.gov.au/services](https://www.respect.gov.au/services/%C2%A0)/



**Translating and Interpreting Service:** Phone to gain access to an interpreter in your own language (please share this with people who don’t speak English and might need this resource).

  * _Phone:_ 131 450
  * _Website_ : [www.tisnational.gov.au](http://www.tisnational.gov.au/)



**BAHAMAS**

**Emergency:** 919

 **Bahamas Crisis Centre Hotline:** For mental health, DV and all other crises

  * _Phone:_ 328-0922
  * _Website:_ <http://www.ngocaribbean.org/the-crisis-centre-bahamas-2/>



**Children’s Crisis Hotline**

  * Phone: (242) 322-2763
  * Phone: (242) 422-2763



**BAHRAIN**

**Emergency: Police/Fire:** 999

 **Ambulance:** 998

 **Shamsaha (formerly Women’s Crisis Care International, Bahrain):** 24/7 helpline for women in crisis. 

    * _Phone:_ 66710901(arabic)
    * _Phone:_ 3844 7588 (english)
  * _Website:[https://shamsaha.org](https://shamsaha.org/)_
  * _Online Contact Form:_ <https://shamsaha.org/contact-us/#sendusmessage>



**Suicide Helpine:** _Phone:_ 0097 161 199 188

**BANGLADESH**

**Emergency:** 999

 **National hotline for violence against women:** _Phone:_ 328-0922

 **Child abuse (including sexaul abuse, child marriage)** : _Phone:_ 333

 **Government Hotline Violence Against Women/Prevention of Child Marriage:** _Phone:_ 109

 **Government Hotline Violence Against Women/Prevention of Child Marriage:** _Phone:_ 109

 **Kaan Pete Roi (mental health crisis):** _website:_ [ http://www.shuni.org ](http://www.shuni.org/)

  
  


**BARBADOS**

**Emergency: Police:** 211

**Fire:** 311

**Ambulance:** 511

 **Abuse Helpline :** (246) 435 8222 

**Barbados Children Directory:** _Phone:_ 246-822-9874

_Website:_ [ http://www.barbadoschildrendirectory.com/child-abuse ](http://www.barbadoschildrendirectory.com/child-abuse)

**Save Foundation:** _Phone:_ 246-432-2873

 **Samaritans of Barbados (mental health hotline):** _Phone:_ (246) 42 99 999

  
  


**BELARUS**

**Emergency: Police:** 102

**Ambulance:** 101

**Medical Emergency:** 103

 **National Toll-free Children Helpline:** Phone: 8 801 100 16 11

 **National Hotline For Domestic Violence (runs 8am to 8pm only)** : _Phone:_ 8-801-100-8-801

 **Anti-Trafficking Hotline:** _Phone:_ 113

 **List of mental health hotlines:** [ http://minzdrav.gov.by/en/dlya-belorusskikh-grazhdan/ekstrennaya-psikhologicheskaya-pomoshch.php ](http://minzdrav.gov.by/en/dlya-belorusskikh-grazhdan/ekstrennaya-psikhologicheskaya-pomoshch.php)

  
  


**BELGIUM**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 101

 **Ambulance:** 100

 **Abuse Helpline:** _Phone:_ 0 800 30030/1712

 **Ecoute Enfants:** _Phone:_ 103

 **Crisis Helpline Support and advice for all crises:** _Phone:_ 32 107 (French)

32 106 (Dutch)

32 108 (German)

**Community Health Service Mental Health Support:**

  * _Phone:_ 02 648 40 14
  * _Website:_ <https://www.chsbelgium.org/en/>



**Tele-Onthaal (24-hour mental health support line):** _Phone:_ 106

 _Website:_ [ http://www.tele-onthaal.be ](http://www.tele-onthaal.be/)

**BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 122

 **Ambulance:** 124

**Civil Protection:** 121

 **Abuse Helplines (women and children):** 1264/1265

 **SOS Helpline** _: Phone:_ 011/266-2222

_Website:_ [ https://www.womenngo.org.rs/konsultacije-za-zene/sos-telefon ](https://www.womenngo.org.rs/konsultacije-za-zene/sos-telefon)

**Centar Srce (suicide hotline) :** _Phone:_ [800-300303](https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=0800300303_\(Suicide_prevention_number\)&action=edit&redlink=1)

_Website:_ [ https://www.centarsrce.org ](https://www.centarsrce.org/)

**CROATIA**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 192

 **Ambulance:** 194

 **Abuse Hotline:** _Phone:_ 116 006

 **Get Help!:** _Phone:_ 0800 55 44

 **Children’s Helpline:** _Phone:_ 116 111

_Website_ : [ http://www.hrabritelefon.hr/ ](http://www.hrabritelefon.hr/)

**Plavi Telefon (counselling hotline):** _Phone:_ 01/4833-888

_Website:_ [http://www.plavi-telefon.hr](http://www.plavi-telefon.hr/)

**DENMARK**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 114

 **Medical emergencies (Copenhagen):** 1813

 **LOKK Hotline (victims of DV):** _Phone:_ +45 70 20 30 82

 **Children’s Hotline:** _Phone:_ 116 111

 **LOKK National organisation of women’s shelters in Denmark** _Website_ :[ http://www.lokk.dk/](http://www.lokk.dk/)

**Livslinien (counselling hotline):** _Phone:_ 70 201 201

_Website:_ [http://www.livslinien.dk](http://www.livslinien.dk/)

**EGYPT**

**Emergency: Police:** 122

**Tourist Police:** 126

 **Ambulance:** 123

 **Abuse Helpline:** _Phone:_ 202 257 87089/76792

 **Nazra For Feminist Studies (Domestic violence) hotline:** _Phone:_ 01011910917

 **Safe Kids Egypt Helpline:** _Phone:_ 01204575909

 **Suicide Hotline:** _Phone:_ 7621602

 **Children’s DV hotline:** _Phone: 16000_

 **Plan International (sexual assault and DV) hotlines: 2** **4/7:** _P_ _hone:_ 202 25247369

25245765

25245764

25247382

**ESTONIA**

**Emergency:** 112

 **Violence Against Women Hotline:** _Phone:_ 1492

 **Eesti Naiste Varjupaikade Liidu/Women’s support centres:** _website:_ [ http://www.naisteliin.ee ](http://www.naisteliin.ee/)

**Tartu Advisory and Crisis Aid Center:** _Website:_ [ http://tnk.tartu.ee/ ](http://tnk.tartu.ee/)

**Eluliin (mental health counselling in Russian and Estonian):** _Phone:_ 6314300

_Website:_ [http://eluliin.ee](http://eluliin.ee/)

**FRANCE**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 17

 **Ambulance:** 15

 **Hébergement d’urgence/ emergency shelter:** 115

 **Women’s Domestic Violence Hotline Helpline:** 3919

 **Child abuse hotline:** 119

 **Centre National d'Information des Femmes et des Familles** **:** _Phone:_ 0144521920

_Website:_ [http://www.infofemmes.com](http://www.infofemmes.com/)

 **S.O.S. Amitié** **(mental health hotline) :** _Phone:_ 09 72 39 40 50

_Website:_ [ http://www.sos-amitie.com](http://www.sos-amitie.com/)

**Logement pour personnes en difficulté:**

**Fapil:** _website:_ [ https://www.fapil.fr ](https://www.fapil.fr/)

**Habitat Humanisme:** _website:_ [ https://www.habitat-humanisme.org ](https://www.habitat-humanisme.org/)

**Le Refuge:** _website:_[https://www.le-refuge.org](https://www.le-refuge.org/)

**GERMANY**

**Emergency: General:** 112

 ** **Hilfetelefon Gewalt Gegen Frauen/ National Women’s Helpline** :** 08000 116 016

 **Hilfetelefon Sexueller Missbrauch/Helpline Sexual Abuse** : 0800-22 55 530 (kostenfrei & anonym)

 **Der WEISSE RING / Hilfe für Opfer von Verbrechen/ Victim support** : 116 006

 **Gewalt Gegen Frauen/ Violence toward Women Helpline (Berlin):** 030 – 611 03 00

 **Bundesverband Frauenberatungsstellen und Frauennotrufe (Frauen gegen Gewalt e.V.):** _website:_ <https://www.frauen-gegen-gewalt.de/de/aktuelles.html>

**Unabhängigen Beauftragten für Fragen des sexuellen Kindesmissbrauchs (sexual abuse help portal):**

**Posttraumatische Belastungsstorugen/ Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Resources:**

_website:_ [https://psychiatrie.charite.de/fuer_patienten/krankheitsbilder/posttraumatische_belastungsstoerungen_ptbs/ ](posttraumatische_belastungsstoerungen_ptbs)

**Suicide Hotline:** _p_ _hone: 08001810771_

_website:<https://www.telefonseelsorge.de> _

**GREECE**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Police:** 100

 **Ambulance:** 166

**Fire:** 199

 **τηλεφωνική γραμμή SOS (SOS Helpline for Abused Women):** 15900

 **National Center for Social Solidarity (E.K.K.A.) for crises, including domestic violence)** : 197

 **Πανελλαδική & Άμεση υποστήριξη των θυμάτων ενδοοικογενειακής βίας από εξειδικευμένο επιστημονικό προσωπικό **(domestic violence support): 210-89 96 636

 **Φροντίδα/ Care:** 210 8103496, 210 8104079, 6973 871 004

 **Χαμόγελο του Παιδιού / Child’s Smile:** 1056, 210 3306170-9

 **Suicide Hotline:** _phone:_ 1018

_website:_[http://suicide-help.gr ](http://suicide-help.gr)

**SOS lifeline for the elderly:** _phone:_ 1065

_website:_ <http://www.lifelinehellas.gr>

**ITALY**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Ambulance:** 118

 **Antiviolenza Donne/ Women’s anti-violence hotline:** 1522

 **Se sei vittima di una qualsiasi forma di violenza chiamaci al numero** 06 37518282

 **(Telefono Rosa) Anti-violence hotline** : 06 37518282

 **Linea Rosa hotline (anti-violence/contra violenza)** : 0544 216316

 **Linea d’emergenza attiva 24 ore su 24 Numero verde:** 800 27 64 33

website: <http://www.casadelledonnebz.it/>

**Emergency hotline (Acerra)** : +39 347 4530563

 **Women’s emergency hotline:** +39 348 7777536 (Bari)

 **Linea d’emergenza attiva 24 ore su 24 Numero verde (Bolzano)** : 800 27 64 33

 **Emergenza/ Emergency number (Bolzano):** +39 800276433

 **Emergenza/ Emergency hotline (Palermo)** : +39 347 4510000

 **Emergenza/ Emergency hotline (Perugia):** +39 3423029409

 **Emergenza/ Emergency hotline (Roma):** +39 (0)62 326 904 979

 **Servizio per la Prevenzione del Suicidio (SPS):** _website:_ <http://www.prevenireilsuicidio.it/>

**Suicide Hotline:** _phone:_ 800860022

 **Telefono Amico (counselling service):** _phone:_ 199284284

 _website:_ [https://www.telefonoamico.it ](https://www.telefonoamico.it)

**ROMANIA**

**Emergency:** 112

 **VAW helpline Sensi Blu Foundation (Bucharest):** 021 311 46 36 or 116 111

_website:_<http://www.fundatiasensiblu.ro/>

 **VAW helpline ADRA (Bucharest):** 021 25 25 117 

**VAW helpline CMSC (Iasi):** 023 225 29 20 

**VAW helpline IEESR (Targu Mures):** 026 521 16 99 

**VAW helpline A.L.E.G. (Sibiu):** 075 389 35 31 

**VAW helpline Centru Artemis (Baia Mare):** 0262 25 07 70 

**VAW helpline APFR (Timișoara):** 0256 29 3183

 **Rețeaua pentru prevenirea și combaterea violenței împotriva femeilor Linie telefonică gratuită** : 0800 500 333

 **Abuse helpline:** (40) 264 598155

 **Alianţa Română de Prevenţie a Suicidului:** 0800 801 200

 _website:_ **<http://www.antisuicid.com/> **

**TelVerde antidepresie:** 0800 0800 20

**RUSSIA**

**Emergency:** 112

 **анна: Национальный центр по предотвращению насили телефон доверия/ANNA violence helpline :** 8 (800) 7000 600

 **Krizis Centr hotline:** _phone:_ 8 (499) 977-17-05 

_website:_ [https://krizis-centr.ru](https://krizis-centr.ru/)

**анна: Национальный центр по предотвращению насили телефон доверия (ANNA (National Center for the Prevention of Violence))**

_phone:_ 8 (800) 7000-600

 _website:_ <http://www.anna-center.ru/index.php/ru/>

**HRO Soprotivlenie (Victim Support Russia) / Межрегиональная правозащитная общественная организация «Сопротивление»**

_phone:_ +7 495 781 9602

 _website:_ [www.soprotivlenie.org](http://www.soprotivlenie.org/)

**Женская информационная сеть (Women’s Information Network)**

[http://womnet.ru](http://womnet.ru/)

**Центр «Сестры» (Sister’s Center)**

**ТЕЛЕФОН ДОВЕРИЯ – (Trust Telephone) 901-02-01**

Sisters Sexual Assault Recovery Centre: [Сёстры центр помощи пережившим сексуальное насилие](http://www.owl.ru/win/women/sisters/index.htm)

**SPAIN**

**Emergency:** 112

 **Teléfono 016/Helpline for Information and Legal Advice on Gender Violence:** 016

 **Luz Casanova shelter (Madrid):** +34 91 445 41 69

 **APRAMP Teléfono de emergencia 24h/ 24 Hour Emergency Helpline** : +34 609 589 479 

**Casa de Acogida para Mujeres víctimas de la violencia de género (CAM A Coruña) – Women’s gender-based violence shelter** (24h/365d): 981 184 352 

**Proyecto Esperanza Tel 24h:** 607 542 515

_website:_[proyectoesperanza.org/](http://proyectoesperanza.org/)

 **Atención y ayuda a la mujer maltratada:** 900 100 009

 **Asistencia a Víctimas de Violencia Sexual y de Género** (Help for victims of sexual violence and GBV): 636858923 

**Castilla-La Mancha Centros de Mujer 24h** : 900 100 114

 **Teléfono del Instituto Andaluz de la Mujer** : _phone:_ 900 200 999

_website: **<http://www.juntadeandalucia.es/institutodelamujer/>**_

 **Instituto Aragonés de la Mujer para emergencias de malos tratos en Aragón** : 900 504 405

 **Instituto Asturiano de la Mujer:** _phone:_ 900 116 016

 **La Dirección General de Igualdad y Mujer (Centro de asistencia a víctimas de violencia de género):** 942-214141 

**Junta de Castilla y León (información a la mujer)** : 012 o 917 260 101

 **Catalunya Línia d’atenció a les dones en situació de violència:** 900 900 120

 **Institut de les Dones (Valencia) Servei d’Atenció Telefònica:** 900.58.08.88

 **TELÉFONO DE ATENCIÓN A LAS VÍCTIMAS DE VIOLENCIA DE GÉNERO (Madrid)** : 900 502 091

 **La Rioja teléfono de información de la mujer:** 900 71 10 10

 **Emakunde Instituto de la Mujer (País Vasco/Euskadi)** : Tel: 945 01 67 00

**Teléfono de la Esperanza ([http://www.telefonodelaesperanza.org](http://www.telefonodelaesperanza.org/))**

**UNITED KINGDOM:**

**Emergency: General:** 112

**Ambulance:** 999

 **Non-emergency medical** (for illnesses and minor injuries where life isn’t threatened, but you would like some advice on what to do next) **:** 111

 **NSPCC Helpline (for children at risk of abuse)** : 0808 800 5000 (24 hours, every day)

 **Freephone 24hr National Domestic Violence Helpline** : 0808 2000 247

 **Rape Crisis Helpline (England)** : 0808 802 9999

 **24 Hour Domestic and Sexual Violence Helpline (Northern Ireland):** 0800 917 14 14

 **Scottish Domestic Abuse Helpline** : 0800 027 1234

 **Rape Crisis Scotland Helpline:** 0808 8010 302

 **Live Fear Free Helpline (Wales)** : 0800 8010 800

 **Wales Rape Crisis Helpline** : 0808 802 9999

 **Women's Aid Freephone 24hr National Domestic Violence Helpline:** 0808 2000 247

_website:_[womensaid.org.uk](http://womensaid.org.uk/)

 **NSPCC (Child Protection) Hotline:** 0808 800 5000

_website:_[nspcc.org.uk](http://www.nspcc.org.uk/)

**UNITED STATES**

**Emergency:** 911

 **National Sexual Assault Hotline** : 800.656.HOPE (4673)

 **The National Domestic Violence HOTLINE:** 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

 **National Child Abuse Hotline** 1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453)

 **National Center for Missing and Exploited Children** : 1-800-843-5678

 **STOP IT NOW Child Safety Hotline** : 1-800-PREVENT

 **Crisis Text Line:** Text SAFE to 741741

 **National Alliance on Mental Illness:** _website:_ [https://www.nami.org/Home ](https://www.nami.org/Home)

**Filter by location, types of therapy, cost, etc. PTSD Help for Veterans:** <https://www.ptsd.va.gov/>

**Invisible Girls Thrive (for teen girls and women who have survived incest and sex abuse) :** <https://www.invisiblegirlsthrive.com>

**Ujima (National Centre of Violence Against Women in the Black Community on DV):** https://ujimacommunity.org

 **Darkness to Light (crisis prevention relating to child sexual assault):** [https://www.d2l.org ](https://www.d2l.org)

**National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:** _Phone:_ 1-800-273-8255

 _website:_ <http://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/>

**VictimsVoice (helping people in abusive relationships document and get legal proof for prosecution)** \- _website:_ <https://victimsvoice.app>

**US State and Territory Coalitions (Domestic Violence):** <https://nnedv.org/content/state-u-s-territory-coalitions/>

**Grants for survivors of domestic violence and domestic violence advocates:** [https://vawnet.org/material/domestic-violence-grants-survivors-and-advocates](funding%20opportunities%20are%20for%20survivors%20of%20domestic%20violence%20and%20domestic%20violence%20advocates)

**North Carolina Specific Resources:**

**North Carolina Coalition Against Domestic Violence:** <https://nccadv.org/>

**Domestic Violence Service Provider directory for all 100 NC counties:** <https://nccadv.org/get-help>

**Trauma and PTSD Therapists in North Carolina:** <https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapists/trauma-and-ptsd/north-carolina>

Filter by location, accepted types of insurance, gender, types of therapy, etc.

 **Trauma and PTSD Support Groups in North Carolina:** <https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/groups/trauma-and-ptsd/north-carolina>

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come follow me at countessselena.tumblr.com


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